Black Snow
by HeedragonGillian
Summary: Jade West was ready to go backpacking with her best friend Korbie for the break. What she wasn't prepared for, was for her ex Beck to tag along. But what happens when a blizzard forces them to seek shelter in a remote cabin with two very handsome occupants. Nothing is as it seems, everyone is keeping secrets, including the two fugitives now holding them hostage. (based on a book).
1. Chapter 1

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Hello guys! I am so sorry for putting the Housemates story on hiatus but I honestly can't figure out how to end it and I thought it would be unfair to post a shitty ending. So what I've decided to do is post a new story based off one of my fav books. So here it is! I hope you guys like it and don't forget to read and review and let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I do not own the story, nor the characters.

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APRIL

The rusted Chevy pickup truck clanked to a stop, and when Tori Vega's head thumped the passenger window, it jolted her awake.

She managed a few groggy blinks. Her head felt strewn with broken memories, shattered fragments that, if she could just piece them together, would form something whole. A window back to earlier in the night. Right now, that window lay in pieces inside her throbbing head.

She remembered the cacophony of countrymusic, raucous laughter, and NBA highlights on the overhead TVs. Dim lighting. Shelves displaying dozens of glass bottles glowing green, amber, and black.

Black.

She'd asked for a drink from that bottle, because it made her dizzy in a good way. A steady hand had poured the liquor into her glass a moment before she'd thrown it back.

"Another one," she'd rasped, plonking the empty glass down on the bar.

She remembered swaying on the cowboy's hip, slow dancing. She stole his cowboy hat; it looked better on her. A black Stetson to match her itsy-bitsy black dress, her black drink, and her foul, black mood-which, mercifully, was hard to hang on to in a tacky dive like this, a rare gem of a bar in the noses-up, la-di-da world of Big Pines, California, where she was vacationing with her family. She'd sneaked out and her parents would never find her here. The thought was a bright light on the horizon. Soon she'd be so tipsy, she wouldn't remember what they looked like. Already their judgmental frowns streaked in her memory, like wet paint running down canvas.

Paint. Color. Art. She'd tried to escape there, to a world of splattered jeans and stained fingers and soul enlightenment, but they had yanked her back, shut her down.

They didn't want a free-spirited artist in the family. They wanted a daughter with a diploma from Stanford.

If they would just love her. Then she wouldn't wear tight,

cheap dresses that infuriated her mother or throw her passion into causes that offended her father's egoism and stiff, aristocratic morals.

She almost wished her mother were here to see her dancing, see her slinking down the cowboy's leg. Grinding hip-to-hip. Murmuring the wickedest things she could think of into his ear. They only paused dancing when he went to the bar to get her a fresh drink. She could have sworn it tasted different from the others. Or maybe she was so drunk, she imagined the bitter taste.

He asked if she wanted to go somewhere private.

Tori only debated a moment. If her mother would disapprove, then the answer was obvious.

The Chevy's passenger door opened and Tori's vision stopped seesawing long enough to focus on the cowboy. For the first time, she noticed the distinct crook in the bridge of his nose, probably a trophy from a bar fight. Knowing he had a hot temper should have made her like him more, but oddly, she found herself wishing she could find a man who exercised restraint instead of reverting to childish outbursts. It was the sort of civilized thing her mother would say. Inwardly lashing herself, Tori blamed her irritatingly sensible attitude on tiredness. She needed sleep. Stat.

The cowboy lifted the Stetson off her head and returned it to his own crop of messy Brown hair.

"Finder's keepers," she wanted to protest. But she couldn't get her mouth around the words.

He lifted her off the seat and balanced her over his shoulder. The back of her dress was riding up, but she couldn't seem to command her hands to tug it down. Her head felt as heavy and fragile as one of her mother's crystal vases. Bewilderingly, the very moment after she had the thought, her head miraculously lightened and seemed to float away from her body. She couldn't remember how she'd gotten here. Had they driven in the truck?

Tori stared down at the heels of the cowboy's boots tracking through muddy snow. Her body bounced with every step, and it was making her stomach swim. Bitterly cold air, mixed with the sharp smell of pine trees, burned the inside of her nose. A porch swing creaked on its chain and wind chimes made soft, tinkling music in the darkness. The sound made her sigh. It made her shudder.

Tori heard the cowboy unlock a door. She tried to pry her eyelids open long enough to get a dim sense of her surroundings. She would have to call her sister in the morning and ask her to come get her. Assuming she could give directions, she thought ironically. Her sister would drive her back to the lodge, scolding her for being careless and self-destructive, but she'd come. She always did.

The cowboy set her on her feet, grasping her shoulders to balance her. Tori glanced sluggishly around. A cabin. He'd brought her to a log cabin. The den they stood in had rustic pine furniture, the kind that looked tacky everywhere but in a cabin. An open door on the far side of the den led to a small storage room with plastic shelving along the walls. The storage room was empty, except for a perplexing pole that ran from floor to ceiling, and a camera on a tripod that was positioned to face the pole.

Even through her haze, fear gripped Tori in a vise. She had to get out of here. Something bad was going to happen.

But her feet wouldn't move.

The cowboy backed her against the pole. The moment he let go, Tori sagged to the floor. Her stilettos twisted off as her ankles slid out from under her.

She was too drunk to scrabble back onto her feet. Her mind whirled, and she blinked frantically, trying to find the door leading out of the storage room. The more she tried to concentrate, the faster the room spun. Her stomach heaved, and she lurched sideways to keep the mess off her clothes. "You left this at the bar," the cowboy said, dropping her Cardinals baseball cap on her head. The hat had been a gift from her father when she'd been accepted to Stanford a few weeks ago. The gift had arrived suspiciously soon after she'd announced she wasn't going to Stanford-or any college. Her dad had turned so red, so stopped of breath, she was positive steam would blow from his ears like a cartoon caricature.

The cowboy lifted the gold chain hanging around her neck clear of her head, his rough knuckles scraping her cheek.

"Valuable?" he asked her, examining the heart-shaped locket closely.

"Mine," she said, suddenly very defensive. He could take back his smelly Stetson, but the locket belonged to her. Her parents had given it to her the night of her first ballet recital, twelve years ago. It was the first and only time they'd approved of anything she'd initiated. It was the one reminder she had that deep down, they must love her. Outside of ballet, her childhood had been governed, pushed, and molded by their vision.

Two years ago, at sixteen, her own vision had raged to life. Art, theatre, indie bands, edgy, unscripted modern dance, rallies with political activists and intellectuals (not dropouts!) who'd left college to pursue alternative education, and a boyfriend with a brilliant, tortured mind who smoked weed and scribbled poetry on church walls, park benches, cars, and her own hungry soul.

Her parents had made their distaste for her new lifestyle clear.

They responded with curfews and rules, tightened their walls of confinement, squeezed life's breath from her. Defiance was the only way she knew to fight back. She'd wept behind locked doors when she quit ballet, but she had to hurt them back. They didn't get to pick and choose pieces of her to love. Either she was theirs unconditionally, or they lost her completely. That was her deal. At eighteen, her resolve was steel-like.

"Mine," she repeated. It took all her concentration to push the word out.

She had to get her locket back, and she had to get out of here. She knew it. But a strange sensation had stolen into her body; it was as if she were watching things happen without feeling emotion.

The cowboy hung her locket on the doorknob. His hands free, he looped scratchy rope around her wrists. Tori winced when he jerked on the knot. He couldn't do this to her, she thought, detached. She'd agreed to come with him, but she hadn't agreed to this.

"Let-go me," she slurred, a sloppy, unconvincing demand that made her cheeks burn with humiliation. She loved language, each word tucked inside her, beautiful and bright, carefully chosen, empowering; she wanted to pull those words from her pocket now, but when she reached deep, she found snipped thread, a hole. The words had tumbled from her muddled head.

She threw her shoulders forward uselessly. He'd tied her to the pole. How would she get her locket back? The thought of losing it made panic scratch inside her chest. If only her sister had returned her call. She'd left a message about going drinking tonight, as a test. She tested her constantly-almost every weekend-but this was the first time she'd ignored her call. She'd wanted to know that she cared about her enough to stop her from doing something stupid.

Had she finally given up on her?

The cowboy was leaving. At the door, he tipped the black Stetson up, his brown eyes smug and greedy. Tori realized the enormity of her mistake. He didn't even like her. Would he blackmail her with compromising photos? Was that the reason for the camera? He must know her parents would pay any price for them.

"I've got a surprise waiting for you in the toolshed around back," he drawled. "Don't go anywhere, you hear?"

Her breath came fast and erratically. She wanted to tell him what she thought of his surprise. But her eyelids drooped lower, and each time, it took longer to snap them open. She started crying.

She'd been drunk before, but never like this. He'd given her a drug. He must have slipped it in her drink. It was making her exhausted and leaden. She sawed the rope against the pole. Or tried to. Her whole body felt heavy with sleep. She had to fight it. Something terrible was going to happen when he came back. She had to talk him out of it.

Sooner than expected, his form darkened the doorway. The lights in the den backlit him, casting a shadow twice his height across the storage room floor. He was no longer wearing the Stetson, and seemed larger than she remembered, but that wasn't what Tori focused on. Her eyes went to his hands. He yanked a second rope between them, checking that it would hold.

He walked toward her and, with shaking hands, fit the rope around her neck. He was behind her, using the rope to pull her neck back against the pole. Lights ruptured behind her eyes. He was tugging too hard. She knew instinctively that he was nervous and excited. She could feel it in the eager tremble of his body. She heard the choppy panting of his breath, growing more charged, but not from exertion. From adrenaline. It made her stomach roll with terror. He was enjoying this. A foreign gurgling noise filled her ears, and she realized with horror that it was her voice. The sound seemed to scare him-he swore and tugged harder.

She screamed, over and over inside herself. She screamed while the pressure built, sweeping her toward the edge of death.

He didn't want photographs. He wanted to kill her.

She would not let this horrible place to be her last memory. Closing her eyes, she went away, into the darkness...

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Please read and review! The first chapter is up next!

-HeedragonGillian.


	2. Chapter 2

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Hope you liked the preface of the story.

Now for the first chapter...

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One year Later

CHAPTER ONE

If I died, it was not going to be from hypothermia.

I decided this as I crammed a goose-down sleeping bag into the back of my Jeep Wrangler and strapped it in, along with five duffels of gear, fleece and wool blankets, silk bag liners, toe warmers, and ground mats. Satisfied nothing was going to fly out on the three-hour drive to Big Pines, I shut the tailgate and wiped my hands on my cutoffs.

My cell phone blared Rod Stewart crooning, "If you want my body," and I held off answering for a moment so I could belt out the "and you think I'm sexy" part along with Rod. Across the street, Mrs. Pritchard slammed her living room window shut. Honestly. I couldn't let a perfectly good ringtone go to waste.

"Hey, girl," Korbie said, snapping her bubble gum through the phone. "We on schedule or what?"

"Tiny snag. Wrangler's out of room," I said with a dramatic sigh. Korbie and I had been best friends forever, but we acted more like sisters. Teasing was part of the fun. "I got the sleeping bags and gear in, but we're going to have to leave behind one of the duffels: navy with pink handles.

"You leave my bag, and you can kiss my g-ass money good-bye."

"Should've known your bitchass would play the rich-family card."

"If you've got it, flaunt it. Anyway, you should blame all the people getting divorced and hiring my mom. If people could kiss and make up, she'd be out of a job."

"Far as I'm concerned, divorce rocks."

Korbie snickered her amusement. "I just called Bear. He hasn't started packing yet but he swears he's going to meet us at Big Pines before dark." Korbie's family owned Angeles national park, a picturesque cabin in Big Pines, and for the next week, it was as close to civilization as we were going to get. "I told him if I have to clear bats out of the eaves by myself, he can count on a long, chaste spring break," Korbie added.

"I still can't believe your parents are letting you spend spring break with your boyfriend."

"Well-," Korbie began hesitantly.

"Ha! I knew it!"

"Beck is coming along to chaperone."

"What?"

Korbie made a gagging noise. "He's coming home for spring break and my dad is forcing him to tag along. I haven't talked to Beck about it, but he's probably pissed. He hates it when my dad tells him what to do. Especially now that he's in college. He's going to be in a horrible mood, and I'm the one who has to put up with it."

I sat on the jeep's bumper, my knees suddenly feeling made of sand. It hurt to breathe. just like that, Beck's ghost was everywhere. I remembered the first time we kissed. During a party along the riverbed behind his house, he'd fingered my bra strap and shoved his tongue in my mouth while everyone else got drunk. I quickly shook the memory out of my mind, mentally scolding myself for his name still having this effect on me.

"He'll be back in town any minute," Korbie said. "It sucks, right? I mean, you're over him, right?"

"Who?" I said, hoping I sounded blasé.

"I don't want it to be awkward, you know?"

"please. I haven't thought about your brother in ages." Then I blurted, "What if I keep an eye on you and Bear? Tell your parents we don't need Beck."The truth was, I wasn't ready to see Beck. Maybe I could get out of the trip. Fake an illness. But it was my trip. I had worked hard for this. I wasn't going to let Beck fucking ruin it. He'd ruined too many things already.

"They won't go for it," Korbie said. "He's meeting us at big pines tonight."

"Tonight? What about his gear? He won't have time to pack," I pointed out. "We've been packing for days."

"This is Beck we're talking about. He's, like, half mountain man. Hold up-Bear is on the other line. I'll call you right back."

I hung up and sprawled in the grass. Breathe in, breathe out. Just when I'd finally moved on, Beck was back in my life, dragging me into the ring for round two. I could have laughed at the irony of it. He always did have to have the final say, I thought cynically.

Of course, he didn't need time to prepare-he'd practically grown up hiking around Big pines. His gear was probably in his closet, ready at a moment's notice.

I rewound my memory several months, to autumn. Beck was five weeks into his freshman year at Stanford when he dumped me. Over the phone. On a night when I really needed him to be there for me. I didn't even want to think about it-it hurt too much to remember how that night had played out. How it had ended.

Afterward, taking pity on me, Korbie had uncharacteristically agreed to let me plan our senior spring break, hoping it would cheer me up. Our two other closest friends, Cat and Mandee, were going to Hawaii for spring break. Korbie and I had talked about spending our break with them on the beaches of Oahu, but I must have been a glutton for punishment, because I said adios to Hawaii and announced that we were backpacking instead. If Korbie knew why I'd chosen the Big Pines, she had the sensitivity not to bring it up.

I knew Beck's spring break would overlap ours, just like I knew how much he loved hiking and camping in the Big Pines. I hoped that when he heard about our trip, he'd invite himself along. I desperately wanted time with him, and to make him see me differently and regret being stupid enough to give me up.

But after months of not hearing from him, I'd finally gotten it. He wasn't interested in the trip, because he wasn't interested in me. He didn't want to get back together. I let go of any hope of us and hardened my heart. I had let him in and he had shut me out, and I was done with Beck. Now this trip was about me.

I closed my mind to the memory and tried to think through my next steps. Beck was coming home. After eight months, I was going to see him, and he was going to see me. What would I say? Would it be awkward?

Of course it would be awkward.

I was ashamed that my next thought was so incredibly vain: I wondered if I'd gained any weight since he'd last seen me. I didn't think so. If anything, the running and weight lifting I'd done to prepare for our backpacking expedition had sculpted my legs. I tried to cling to the idea of sexy legs, but it wasn't making me feel any better. Pretty much, I felt like throwing up. I couldn't see Becknow. I'd thought I'd moved on, but all the pain was surging back, and it was pissing me off

I forced a few more deep breaths, composing myself, and listened to the Wrangler's radio playing in the background. Not a song, but the weather report.

"• • • two storm systems set to hit the national forests• By tonight, the chance of rain will rise to ninety percent, with thunderstorms and strong winds possible•"

I perched my sunglasses on top of my head and squinted at the blue sky stretching from one horizon to the other. Not a wisp of cloud. Just the same, if rain was coming, I wanted to be on the road before it hit. Good thing we were leaving Hollywood and driving ahead of the storm, into Big pines.

"Dad!" I hollered, since the house windows were open.

A moment later he came to the front door. I craned my neck to look at him and put on my best little girl pout. "I need money for gas, Daddy."

"Daddy? what happened to your allowance?"

"I had to buy stuff for the trip," I explained.

"Hasn't anyone told you money doesn't grow on trees?" he teased, observing me with a patronizing shake of his head.

I rolled my eyes. "Come on, I really need gas money."

"Of course you do." He opened his wallet with the softest resigned sigh. He gave me four faded, rumpled twenties. "Don't let the gas tank drop below a quarter full, you hear? Up in the mountains, gas stations start to thin. Nothing worse than getting stranded."

I pocketed the money and smiled angelically. "Better sleep with your cell phone and a tow rope under your pillow, just in case."

"Jade-"

"Just Kidding," I said, giggling. "I won't get stranded." I swung into the Wrangler. I'd dropped the top, and the sun had done a fine job of warming my seat. Sitting taller, I checked my reflection in the rearview mirror. By the end of summer, the streaks of color in my hair would be as pale as butter. And I'd have added ten new freckles to the ranks. I'd inherited German genes from my father's side. Italian from my mother's. Chance of sunburn? One hundred percent. Lifting a Misfits hat off the passenger seat, I squashed it on my head. But dang it all, I was barefoot.

Perfect attire for 7-Eleven.

Ten minutes later, I was in the store, filling a cup with Cherry Slurpee. I drank some off the top and refilled it. Willie Hennessey, who was working the register, gave me the evil eye.

"Good grief," he said. "Help yourself, why don't you?"

"Since you offered," I said cheerfully, and stuck the straw between my lips once more before refilling.

"I'm supposed to keep law and order in here."

"Two little sips, Willie. Nobody's going to go fucking bankrupt over two sips. When did you become such a gank?"

"Since you started pilfering Slurpee and pretending you can't operate the gas pump so I have to come out and fill your tank for you. Every time you pull in, I want to kick myself."

I wrinkled my nose. "I don't want my hands smelling like gas. It's gross. And you are particularly good at pumping gas, Willie," I added with a flattering smile.

"Practice makes perfect," he muttered.

I padded barefoot through the aisles looking for Twizzlers and Cheez-Its, thinking that if Willie didn't like pumping my gas he really should get another job, when the front door chimed. I didn't even hear footsteps before a pair of warm, calloused hands slipped over my eyes from behind.

"Guess who?"

His familiar soapy smell seemed to freeze me. I prayed he couldn't feel my face heat up under his touch.

For the longest moment, I couldn't find my voice. It seemed to shrink inside me, bouncing painfully down my throat.

"Give me a clue," I said, hoping I sounded bored. Or mildly annoyed. Anything but hurt.

"Short. Fat. Obnoxious overbite." His smooth, teasing voice after all these months.

It sounded familiar and foreign at the same time. Feeling him so close made me dizzy from nerves. I was afraid I'd start yelling at him, right there in the 7-Eleven. If I let him get too close, I was afraid I might not yell at him. And I wanted to yell-I'd spent eight months practicing what I'd say in my head and I was ready to let it out.

"In that case, I'll have to go with . . . Beck Oliver." I sounded carelessly polite. I was sure of it. And I couldn't think of a bigger relief.

Beck came around me and leaned an elbow on the aisle's endcap. He gave me a wolfish smile. He had nailed the whole devilishly charming thing years ago. I'd been a sucker for it back then, but I was stronger now.

Ignoring his handsome face, I gave him a bored once-over. By the looks of it, he'd let his pillow style his hair this morning. It was longer than I remembered. On the hottest days of track practice, when sweat dripped off the tips, his hair had turned the color of tree bark. The memory made something inside me ache. I shoved aside my nostalgia and eyed him with cool detachment. "What do you want?"

Without asking, he bent my Slurpee straw sideways and helped himself. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "Tell me about this camping trip."

I yanked my Slurpee out of his reach. "Backpacking trip." I felt it was important to make the distinction. Anyone could camp. Backpacking required skill and moxie.

"Got everything you need?" he went on.

"And a few wants, too." I shrugged. "Hey, a girl needs her Eyeliner."

"Let's be honest. Korbie will never let you leave the cabin. She's terrified of fresh air. And you can't say no to her." He tapped his head wisely. "I know you girls."

I gave him a look of indignation. "We're backpacking for one full week. Our route is forty miles long."

So maybe it was a teensy exaggeration. In fact, Korbie had agreed to no more than two miles of hiking per day, and had insisted we hike in circles around Big Pines, in case we needed quick access to amenities or cable TV. While I'd never truly expected to backpack the entire week, I had planned to leave Korbie and Bear at the cabin for a day and trek off on my own. I wanted to put my training to the test. Obviously now that Beck was joining us, he was going to find out about our true plans soon enough, but at the moment my biggest priority was impressing him. I was sick of him forever insinuating that he had no reason to take me seriously. I could always deal with any flak he might give me later by insisting that I'd wanted to backpack the whole week and Korbie was holding me back-Beck wouldn't find that excuse far-fetched.

"You do know that several of the hiking trails are still covered in snow, right? And the lodges haven't opened for the season, so people are sparse. Even the Lake Ranger Station is closed. Your safety is your own responsibility-they don't guarantee rescue."

I gazed at him with round eyes. "You don't say! I'm not going into this completely in the dark, Beck," I snapped. "I've got it covered. we'll be fine."

He rubbed his mouth, hiding a smile, his thoughts perfectly clear. "You really don't think I can do it," I said, trying not to sound stung.

"I just think the two of you will have more fun if you go to the Hot Springs. You can soak in the mineral pools and spend a day shopping."

"I've been training for this trip all year," I argued. "You don't know how hard I've worked, because you haven't been around. You haven't seen me in eight months." I'm not the same girl you left behind. "You don't know me anymore."

"Point made," he said, flipping up his palms to show it was an innocent suggestion. "But why Big Pines? There's nothing to do up there. You and Korbie will be bored after the first night."

I didn't know why Beck was so set on dissuading me. He loved Big Pines. And he knew as well as I did that there was plenty to do there. Then it hit me. This wasn't about me or Big Pines. He didn't want to have to tag along. He didn't want to spend time with me. If he got me to drop the trip, his dad wouldn't force him to join us, and he'd get his spring break back.

Digesting this painful realization, I cleared my throat. "How much are your parents paying you to tag along?"

He made a big deal of looking me over in mock critical evaluation. "Clearly not enough."

So that's how we were going to play this. A little meaningless flirtation here, a little banter there. In my imagination, I took a black marker and drew a big X through Beck's name.

"Just so we're clear, I argued against having you come. You and me together again? I'd rather be torn apart by a bear limb by limb." It had sounded better in my head. Hanging between us now, the words sounded petty and mean-exactly like an ex-girlfriend would sound. I didn't want him to know I was still hurting. Not when he was all smiles and winks.

"That so? Well, this chaperone just cut your curfew by an hour," he jested.

I nodded beyond the store's plate-glass window toward the four-wheel-drive BMW Xs parked outside. "Yours?" I guessed. "Yet another gift from your parents, or do you actually do more than chase girls at Stanford, such as hold down a respectable job?" "My job is chasing girls." An odious grin. "But I wouldn't call it respectable."

"No serious girlfriend, then?" I couldn't bring myself to look at him, but I felt immense pride over my oh-so-casual tone. I told myself I didn't care about his answer one way or another. In fact, if he'd moved on, it was yet another flashing green light telling me I was free to do the same.

He poked me. "Why? You got a boyfriend?"

"Of course."

"Yeah, right." He snorted. "Korbie would have told me."

I stood my ground, arching my eyebrows smugly. "Believe it or not, there are some things Korbie doesn't tell you."

His eyebrows furrowed. "Who is he?" he asked warily, and I could tell he was thinking about buying my story.

The best way to remedy a lie is not to tell another lie. But I did anyway.

"You don't know him. He's new in town."

He shook his head. "Too convenient. I don't believe you." But his tone suggested he might.

I felt an overpowering urge to prove to him that I had moved on with or without closure, and in this case, without. And not only that, but that I'd moved on to a much, much better guy. While Beck was busy being an oily womanizer in California, I was not-I repeat, not moping around and pining over old photographs of him.

"That's him. See for yourself," I said without thinking.

Beck's eyes followed my gesture outside to the red Volkswagen Jetta parked at the nearest gas pump.

The guy pumping gas into the Jetta was a couple years older than me. His Black hair was cropped, and it showed off the striking symmetry of his face. With the sun at his back, shadows marked the depressions beneath his cheekbones. I couldn't tell the color of his eyes, but I hoped they were blue or green. For no other reason than that Beck's were a deep, chocolate brown. The guy had straight, sculpted shoulders that made me think swimmer, and I had never seen him before.

"That guy? Saw him on my way in, plates are Nevada." Beck sounded unconvinced.

"Like I said, new in town."

"He's older than you."

I looked at him meaningfully. "And?"

The door chimed and my fake boyfriend strolled inside. He was even better-looking up close. And his eyes were most definitely Green/blue the kind that reminded me of the cool water in malibu. He reached into his back pocket for his wallet, and I grabbed Beck's arm and hauled him behind a shelf stacked with Fig Newtons and Oreos. "What are we doing?" Beck asked, staring at me like I'd sprouted two heads.

"I don't want him to see me," I whispered. "With you."

"Because he's not really your boyfriend, right?"

"That's not it. It's-"

Where was a third lie when I needed it?

Beck smiled devilishly, and the next thing I knew, he had shaken off my hand and was ambling toward the front counter. "Shit!" I trapped a groan between my teeth and watched, peering between the two top shelves.

"Hey," Beck said affably to the guy, who wore a buffalo-check flannel shirt, jeans, and hiking boots.

With barely a glance up, the guy tipped his head in acknowledgment.

"I hear you're dating my ex," Beck said, and there was something undeniably smug in his tone. He was giving me a taste of my own medicine, and he knew it.

Beck's remark drew the full attention of the guy. He studied Beck curiously, and I felt my cheeks grow even hotter.

"You know, your girlfriend," Beck prodded. "the goth girl hiding behind the cookies over there."

He was pointing at me.

I straightened, my head surfacing above the topshelf. I smoothed my shirt and opened my mouth, but there were no words. No words at all.

The guy looked beyond Beck to me. Our gazes locked briefly, and I mouthed a humiliated I can explain. . . . But I couldn't.

Then something unexpected happened. The guy looked squarely at Beck, and said in an easy, unruffled voice, "Yeah. My girlfriend. Jade."

I flinched. He knew my name?

Beck appeared similarly startled. "Oh. Hey. Sorry, man. I thought-"He stuck out his hand. "I'm Beck Oliver," he stammered awkwardly. "Jade's . . . ex."

"Ryder."

Ryder eyed Beck's outstretched hand but didn't take it. He placed three twenties on the counter for Willie Hennessey. Then he crossed to me and kissed my cheek. It was a no-frills kiss, but my pulse thrummed just the same. He smiled, and it was a warm, sexy smile. "I see you haven't gotten over your Slurpee addiction, babe."

Slowly I smiled back. If he was game for this, then so was I. "I saw you pull in, and needed something to cool me off." I fanned myself while gazing up at him adoringly.

His eyes crinkled at the edges. I was pretty sure he was laughing on the inside.

I said, "You should stop by my house later, Ryder, because I bought some new toys that could use a test run. . . ."

"Ah. Roleplay?" he said without missing a beat.

I shot a covert glance at Beck to gauge how he was handling the flirting. Much to my enjoyment, he looked like he'd caught a mouthful of lemon peel.

"You know me-always spicing things up," I returned silkily.

Beck cleared his throat and folded his arms over his chest. "Shouldn't you be heading out, Jade? You really should get to the cabin before dark."

Something undecipherable clouded Ryder's eyes. "Going camping?" he asked me.

"Backpacking," I corrected. "In Big Pines. I was going to tell you, but . . ."Ack! What possible reason could I come up with for not telling my boyfriend about this trip? So close to pulling this off, and I was going to blow it.

"But it seemed unimportant, since I'm heading out of town too, and we won't be able to spend the week together anyway," Ryder finished easily.

I met his eyes again. Good looking, quick on his feet, game for anything-even pretending to be the boyfriend of a random goth girl he'd never met-and a frighteningly good liar. Who was this guy?

"Yes, exactly," I murmured.

Beck cocked his head at me. "When we were together, did I ever take off for a week without telling you?"

You took off for eight months, I thought snidely. And broke up with me on the most important night of my life. Jesus said forgive, but there's always room for an exception.

I said to Ryder, "By the way, Daddy wants to have you over for dinner next week."

Beck made a strangled noise. Once, when he'd brought me home five minutes after curfew, we'd pulled into the driveway to see my dad standing on the porch tapping a golf driver in his palm. He'd marched over and smacked it against Beck's black Ford F-I50, leaving a nice round crater. "Next time you bring her home late, I'll aim for the headlights," he'd said. "Don't be stupid enough to need three warnings."

He hadn't meant it, not really. Since I was the baby of the family and the only girl, my dad had a grouchy streak when it came to the boys I dated. But actually, my dad was a lovable old bear. Still, Beck never broke curfew again.

And never once had he been allowed to come to dinner.

"Tell your dad I could use a few more fly-fishing tips," Mason said, continuing to hold up our charade. Miraculously, he'd also correctly guessed my dad's favorite sport. This entire encounter was starting to feel . . . eerie. "oh, and one more thing, babe." He combed his hand through my hair, pushing it off my shoulder. I held perfectly still, his touch freezing my breath inside me. "Be safe. Mountains are dangerous this time of year."

I gawked with amazement at him until he pulled out of the gas station and drove off.

He knew my name. He'd saved my butt. He knew my name.

Granted, it was printed across the chest of my purple Acting-camp tee, but, Beck hadn't noticed that.

"I thought you were lying," Beck told me, looking stupefied.

I handed Willie a five for my Slurpee and pocketed the change. "As satisfying as this conversation has been," I told Beck, "I should probably go do something more productive. Like key that Bimmer of yours. It's too pretty."

"Just like me?" He waggled his brows hopefully.

I filled my cheeks with Slurpee, miming that I intended to spit it at him. He jumped clear and, to my satisfaction, erased his cocky grin at long last.

"See you tonight at Big Pines," Beck called after me as I pushed out of the store.

By way of answer, I gave him a thumbs-up.

My middle finger would have been too obvious.

As I passed Beck's BMW in the parking lot, I noticed the doors were unlocked. I glanced back to make sure he wasn't watching, then made a split-second decision. Climbing through the passenger door, I knocked his rearview mirror out of alignment, dribbled Slurpee on the floor mats, and stole his vintage CD collection from the glove box. It was a petty thing to do, but it made me feel a smidge better.

I'd give the CDs back tonight-after I'd scratched a few of his favorites.

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Okay Chapter one done! Hope you guys liked and want me to post the next chapter!

Also I hope Jade isn't too out of character in this fic but I'll try my best to keep her in character.

Please read and review and let me know what you think.

Also if you've already read the book let me know what your thoughts are about, I'd love to know!

-Heedragon Gillian.


	3. Chapter 3

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Hello! I'm glad you guys like the new story

Sayyouwontletgo: Her name was on her shirt! Ryder was just quick enough to notice. This story will be Jyder! But it's not going to be in the way you guys think x) I always seems to make Beck the bad guy lol but I don't have anything against him, I promise lol And as for updating, because this is based on a book the posting of chapters will go much faster!

Maria: Yes, yes, and yes! X3 I shall continue as best as I can.

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CHAPTER TWO

A few hours later, Korbie and I were on the road. Beck had taken off before us, and I had Korbie to blame. When I'd rung her doorbell, she had been packing yet another bag, languidly pulling shirts from her closet and handpicking lipsticks from her cosmetics case. I'd sat on her bed, trying to speed things up by stuffing everything into the bag.

I'd really hoped to beat Beck to Big Pines. Now he'd get first dibs on a bedroom, and his stuff would be spread around the cabin by the time we arrived. Knowing him, he'd lock up behind himself and force us to knock, like guests. Which was infuriating, since this was our trip, not his.

Korbie and I had the top down, to enjoy the warmth of the valley before the cold mountain air hit. We had the music cranked. Korbie had made a mixtape for the trip, and we were listening to that song from the-seventies? eighties?-that went, "Get outta my dreams, get into my car." Beck's smug face was still floating around in the back of my mind, and it was bothering me. I firmly believed in the adage "Fake it till you make it," so I pasted on a smile and rolled my eyes as Korbie tried to hit the high notes.

After a quick stop for more Red Bull, we left behind the bright lights and obnoxious laughter of people walking down the Hollywood walk, and climbed to higher elevation. The road narrowed, lodgepole pines and quaking aspens crowding up against the shoulders. The air rushing through my hair felt cool and clean. White and blue wildflowers burst from the ground, and the world smelled sharp and earthy. I bumped my sunglasses higher on my nose and grinned. My first trip without my dad or my big brother, Ian. No way was I going to let Beck spoil it. I wasn't going to let him ruin my mood on the drive, and I wasn't going to let him ruin my week in the mountains. Screw him. Screw him, and have fun. It seemed like a good mantra for the week.

The sky was such a dazzling blue it hurt my eyes, the sun glinting off the windshield as we came around a bend. I blinked to sharpen my vision, and then I saw them. The white glacial horns of the Big Pines jutting up in the distance. Sharp, vertical peaks soared into the sky like snow-tipped pyramids. The view was mesmerizing and overwhelming-the sheer vastness of trees, slopes, and sky.

Korbie leaned out the window with her Pear Phone to take the best shot. "I had a dream last night about that girl who was killed by drifters in the mountains last summer," she said.

"The white-water rafting guide?". I couldn't remember her name from the news but She was really smart and had a full ride to Georgetown. She disappeared sometime around Labor Day.

"Aren't you freaked out something like that could happen to us?"

"Are you kidding? I could use some excitement in my life" I smirked, knowing how Korbie would have a fit.

"That's not funny!"

"I was kidding!" I said sensibly. "She went missing really far from where we'll be. And there was no proof that drifters killed her. That's just what everyone assumes. Maybe she got lost. Anyway, it's too early for drifters to be camping by the river. plus, we'll be up in the mountains, where the drifters don't go."

"Yeah, but it's kind of creepy."

"Everything creeps you out! Besides It happened last summer. And it was only one girl."

"Yeah? What about Tori Vega, the socialite who was on every news channel last year?" Korbie argued.

"Korbie. Stop it. Seriously. Do you know how many thousands of people come to the mountains and make it home safely?"

"Tori disappeared very close to where we'll be," Korbie insisted.

"She disappeared miles from where we'll be. And she was drunk. They think she waded into a lake and drowned."

"On the news they said people saw her leave a bar with a cowboy in a black Stetson."

"One person saw that. And they never found the cowboy. He probably doesn't exist. If we were in any danger, my dad wouldn't have let me come."

"I guess," Korbie said, sounding unconvinced. Thankfully, a few minutes later she seemed to have shed her apprehension. "T minus two hours and we'll be roasting marshmallows at Big Pines!" she cheered at the blue dome of sky.

The Olivers had owned Big Pines as long as I could remember. It was more of a lodge than a cabin in the woods. Three stone chimneys jutted from a gabled rooftop. Big Pines had six bedrooms-seven if you counted the sofa bed in the basement next to the foosball and pool tables-a wraparound deck, a stunning bank of south-facing windows, and nooks and crannies galore.

While the Olivers occasionally spent Christmas at Big Pines-Mr. Oliver had earned his pilot's license and bought a single-engine helicopter to get up the mountain, since most roads were snow-packed and closed until springtime-they used it almost exclusively as a summer home, and had installed an apron of lawn with a hot tub, badminton court, and fire pit nestled between lounge chairs.

Two Christmases ago, I'd spent my vacation at Big Pines with Korbie's family, but not this past Christmas. Beck had gone to the home of one of his college roommates for the holiday, and Korbie and her parents had gone skiing in Colorado, leaving Big Pines vacant. I'd never visited without Mr. and Mrs. Oliver. I couldn't picture it without Mr. Oliver's watchful eye following us like a shadow.

This time, it was just us kids. No adults and no rules. A year ago, being alone with Beck for a week would have seemed forbidden and dangerous, a secret fantasy come true. Now I didn't know what to expect. I didn't know what I was supposed to say to him when we bumped into each other in the hallway. I wondered if he was dreading this as much as I was. At least our first awkward run-in was out of the way.

"Do you have any gum?" Korbie asked, and before I could stop her, she opened my glove box and Beck's CD collection tumbled out. She picked it up and eyed it quizzically. "Isn't this my brother's?" I'd been caught; might as well own it.

"I took it from his car this morning at the gas station. He was being an asshole. I was totally justified. Don't worry, I'll give it back."

"Are you sure you're okay with the whole Beck thing?" Korbie asked, clearly finding it strange that I'd stolen his CDs. "He's just a butt-face to me, but I keep reminding myself that you guys were, like, together. Or whatever. We can talk about it as much as you want-just don't bring up kissing. The thought of anyone swapping spit with my brother, especially you, is vomit-inducing." She shoved her finger down her throat for emphasis.

"Totally over him." What a big fat lie. I was not over Beck and it wasn't for lack of trying. The fake boyfriend I felt compelled to make up proved it. Before this morning, I really believed I'd moved on, but when I saw Beck, my repressed emotions had boiled to the surface. I hated that I still felt something for him, even if it was intense negative emotion. I hated that I was still giving him power to hurt me. I had so many bad memories inextricably linked to him.

Did Korbie not remember that he broke up with me the night of homecoming? I had a dress, had dinner reservations at Nozu, and had paid my and Beck's portion of the limo rental. And I was up for homecoming queen! I had dreamed countless times of what it would feel like to stand on the rooftop of the asphalt café wearing a crown, beaming as the crowd clapped and cheered, before I dumped fake blood over the both of us.

We'd planned to meet at my house at eight, and when eight-thirty rolled around with still no Beck, I actually worried he'd been in an accident. I knew his flight wasn't delayed-I'd tracked its progress online. The rest of our group had left in the limo, and as much as I hate to admit it I was on the brink of tears.

And then the phone rang. Beck hadn't even left Standord. He'd waited until the last minute to call, and he didn't bother to fake an apologetic tone. In a smooth, unconcerned voice, he told me he wasn't coming.

"You waited until now to tell me?" I exclaimed.

"I've had a lot on my mind."

"This is so typical. You haven't called me in weeks. You haven't returned any of my calls in days." Beck wasn't the same person since leaving for college. It was like he got a taste of freedom, and everything changed. I was no longer a priority.

"I should have known you'd do something like this," I snapped. I was trying so hard not to cry. He wasn't coming. I didn't have a date for homecoming.

"You're monitoring the frequency of my calls? I'm not sure how I feel about that, Jade."

"Seriously? You're making me out to be the creep? Do you know how much you're fucking letting me down right now?"

"You're exactly like my fucking dad, always whining that I'm not good enough," he said defensively.

"You're a fucking ass!"

"Maybe we shouldn't be in a relationship," he said stiffly.

"Maybe we shouldn't!"

The worst part was, I could hear loud music and laughter in the background. He was at a party. I'd placed so many expectations on this night, and he was getting drunk. I slammed the phone down and burst into tears.

These memories were starting to make me grumpy. I really wished I didn't have to talk about Beck. It was chipping away at my determination to keep a positive attitude. It would be much easier to fake happy if I didn't have to waste energy convincing the whole world that I was peachy, just peachy.

"It's not going to be weird with him around?" Korbie pressed. "Don't be ridiculous."

She narrowed her eyes speculatively. "You're not going to use this opportunity to hook up with him again, are you?"

"Gross. please never ask me that again." But the thought had occurred to me. It totally had. What if Beck made a pass at me? It wasn't hard to imagine. Korbie and Bear would be all over each other. Which left Beck and me. It wouldn't surprise me if he tried something. Which meant I had to decide right now if I was going to let him.

Maybe, if I thought he'd really moved on, I could let it drop. But the way he'd looked at me at the 7-Eleven? When I was flirting with Ryder? If that wasn't regret, I didn't know what was.

But this time, I decided, I was going to make him work for it. He'd humiliated me, and he had a lot of making up for it to do. I wouldn't take him back until he'd sufficiently suffered. A little groveling with a cherry on top. Beck knew I wasn't a cheater, which would work to my advantage. I'd have some fun with him and then dump him, claiming guilt over cheating on my fake boyfriend.

You know what they say about payback? Pretty soon, Beck was going to know too.

Glad that I finally had a plan, I settled deeper into my seat, feeling smugly triumphant and ready for the long week ahead.

Korbie unzipped the CD case, but before she could flip through the CDs, she noticed a folded paper in the front of the case. "Wow, check this out."

I glanced sideways. She was holding a topographic map of Angeles National Forest-the kind you get from a park ranger station-but this one had notes jotted everywhere in Beck's handwriting. It folded in thirds, and then again in half, and the coloring was faded, the edges frayed. Beck had clearly made good use of it.

"Beck's marked all the best hiking trails," Korbie said. "Look how far he's hiked-there are notes everywhere. It must have taken him years to do this. I know I always teased him for being such an outdoor nerd, but this is kind of cool."

"Let me see." I took the map, flattening it to the steering wheel and glancing between it and the road. Beck had marked more than hiking trails. The map was riddled with notes detailing snowmobile trails, unpaved roads, emergency shelters, a ranger station, scenic points of interest, hunting grounds, unpolluted lakes and streams, and wildlife crossings. Big Pines was also marked. To a hiker stranded in the mountains, the map would be a useful survival tool.

We were still too far away to find our location on Beck's map, but I was seriously considering trading it for Mr. Oliver's inferior notes once we got closer.

"You definitely have to give Beck the map back," Korbie insisted.

I refolded the map, tucking it into the back pocket of my shorts. A map this painstakingly detailed would be worth something to Beck. I'd return it. But first I'd make him sweat a little.

Thirty minutes later, the mixtape came to an end with "Every Day Is a Winding Road," by Sheryl Crow. The road had steepened, and we zigzagged up the mountain on switchbacks. The shoulders of the road fell away sharply, and I leaned forward over the steering wheel, concentrating around each hairpin curve. One misguided turn would send us careering over the mountainside. The realization was as thrilling as it was heart stopping.

"Do those look like rain clouds to you?"Korbie asked, frowning as she pointed at a cluster of dark clouds sprouting above the treetops to the north.

"How is that even possible? I checked the weather before we left. Northern national parks were supposed to get rain, Big pines wasn't."

"It will pour for a couple minutes and then the sky will clear." If you don't like the weather in California, hang around five minutes. So the saying went.

"It had better not rain a single day we're up here," Korbie huffed with more indignation. I wondered if she was thinking about Cat and Mandee sunbathing on Waikiki Beach. I knew how much Korbie had wanted to go somewhere tropical for spring break. I thought it said a lot about our friendship that she was with me now. We fought, sure, but we were solid. Not many friends would give up the beach for hiking in the mountains.

"I read in a guidebook that rain has something to do with the warm and cold air up here always bumping together," I murmured idly, keeping my eyes glued to the road. "At this altitude, water vapor can turn to ice, which has a positive charge. But rain has a negative charge. When the charges build up, they create lightning and we get a storm."

Korbie lowered her sunglasses down her nose and gawked at me. "Do you also light fire with sticks and navigate by the stars?"

I let go of the steering wheel long enough to give her shoulder a shove. "You should have at least glanced at some of the guidebooks your dad bought you."

"You mean the guidebooks that taught me that a human can subsist on rabbit droppings if faced with starvation?" She wrinkled her nose. "That was the first and last time I picked up a guide. Anyway, reading a guidebook would have been a waste, since my brother will take charge and boss us around."

Beck wasn't going to be in charge. Hell no! Not this time. I hadn't trained this long and hard just to hand over control.

Soon after, the sky glowered a dark, dirty gray. The first drop of rain splashed like ice on my arm. Then another. Three more. In a matter of seconds, the rain was pattering down steadily, splattering the windshield with tiny pinpricks of water. I stopped the Wrangler in the middle of the road, since there was nowhere to pull off.

Korbie swatted the raindrops like they were mosquitoes.

"Help me put the top up," I said, jumping out. I raised the soft top, indicating that she should latch it down. Opening the tailgate, I unrolled the window and fastened the straps. By the time I finished, I was thoroughly wet, the hairs on my arms standing stiff from cold. I slicked water out of my eyes and zipped up the side windows. Finally, I secured the Velcro seam and leaped back inside the car with a violent shiver.

"There's your negative charge," Korbie deadpanned.

I pressed my cheek to the cold window and peered up at the sky. Violent gray storm clouds stretched in every direction. I could no longer see any blue, not even a crack of it on the horizon. I rubbed my arms for warmth.

"I should call Bear and give him the heads-up," Korbie said, speed-dialing him on her phone. A moment later she slumped back in her seat. "No phone service."

We'd only made it another couple of miles before the rain broke from the sky in a torrent. A stream of fast-moving water gushed down the surface of the road. Water splashed up over the tires and I worried about hydroplaning. The windshield wipers couldn't remove the water fast enough; the rain beat down so furiously, I couldn't see where I was going. I wanted to pull over, but there wasn't a shoulder. Instead, I steered as far to the right of my lane as I could, parked, and turned on my hazard lights. I hoped if anyone drove up behind us, they'd be able to see the lights flashing through the downpour.

"I wonder what the weather's like in Hawaii," Korbie said, using her sleeve to clear the fog accumulating on her window.

I tapped my nails on the steering wheel, wondering what Beck would do in my shoes. It would brighten my mood tremendously if, tonight, I could report to him that I'd weathered the storm, no problem.

"Don't panic," I murmured aloud, thinking it sounded like a good first step toward success.

"It's fucking downpouring, we have no cell phone service, and we're in the middle of the fucking mountains. Don't panic. Sure," Korbie said.

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Hey another chapter!

I know nothing really happens in this chapter, so because I am in a good mood I will post the next chapter and leave it at that until the next time I post!

Please read and review and let me know what you think!

-HeedragonGillian

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	4. Chapter 4

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As promised! Chapter 3 😉

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CHAPTER THREE

The rain didn't let up.

An hour later, it continued to stream down the windshield, thickening to slush. It wasn't quite snow.

A few more degrees, though, and it would change. I was still parked in the road, and I'd left the engine running almost the whole time. Every time I turned it off to conserve gas, both Korbie and I started shivering violently. We'd changed into jeans and boots, and put on our winter coats, but the extra clothing hadn't kept off the chill. For better or worse, nobody had driven up behind us.

"It's getting colder out," I said, chewing my lip nervously. "Maybe we should try to turn back."

"The cabin can't be more than an hour away. We can't turn back now."

"It's coming down so hard I can't make out the road signs." I leaned against the steering wheel, squinting through the windshield at the yellow diamond-shaped sign ahead. The black markings were completely illegible. It had gotten dark awfully fast. The clock showed after five, but it might as well have been dusk.

"I thought the Wrangler was made to go off-road. I'm sure it can handle the rain. Just give it a lot of gas and get us up this mountain."

"Let's wait ten more minutes, see if the rain stops." I didn't have a lot of experience driving in a downpour, especially one this severe, with gusting wind. The growing darkness only compounded the low visibility. Right now, driving, even at a crawling pace, seemed dangerous.

"Look at the sky. It's not stopping. We have to keep going. Do you think the windshield wipers will hold up?"

It was a good question. The rubber was wearing away from the metal skeleton, which etched into the glass with a soft squeak.

"Maybe you should have replaced them before we left," Korbie said.

Good of her to point that out now.

"On second thought, I'm worried this weather might be too much for your car," Korbie continued in a smoothly concerned voice.

I kept my mouth shut, afraid I'd say something I'd regret. Korbie's digs were always like that-under the carpet. She had the whole guilelessly undermining thing down to an art.

"They've really improved off-road vehicles over the years, haven't they?" she added just as sleekly. "I mean, the difference between your Wrangler and my SUV is remarkable."

I felt my back go up. She was turning this into a competition, like always. I would never tell Korbie, but 2 summers ago, during a sleepover, I'd peeked in her diary. I thought I'd find secrets about Beck, things I could playfully tease him about later. Imagine my surprise when I found two side-by-side lists comparing Korbie and me. According to her, I had better legs and a more defined waist, but my lips were too thin, I was too pale, and therefore I was only generically cute. She had the better bra cup size, better eyebrows, and she weighed ten pounds less than me-of course this was before puberty hit me! The list took up two pages, and I could tell by the changes in ink color that it was ongoing.

She'd given each feature a point rating, and added up our score totals. At the time, she had me beat by a safe ten points. Which was ridiculous, since she'd given her manicure five points more than mine and we'd gotten matching ones at the same salon.

I thought of her secret list now, and felt more determined than ever to defend the Wrangler. I would get us up this mountain to keep from giving her yet another victory on her stupid list (Better car? Check.). I knew this game shouldn't matter, it was rigged, and I knew she'd never let me beat her, but I wanted to. Badly.

Oddly enough, I'd gone through the same charade in my relationship with Beck, trying excessively hard to convince everyone around me, especially Korbie, that Beck and I were perfect. Forever. I had never thought about it so consciously before, but I felt an overpowering need to show Korbie how great my life was. Maybe because of the list. Maybe because it annoyed me to think she was keeping score, when that was the sort of game enemies, not best friends, played.

"Did you put snow tires on this thing before we left?" Korbie wanted to know.

This thing? It was times like this when I had to stop and remind myself why Korbie and I were friends. We'd been inseparable as far back as I could remember, and even though we'd started drifting in different directions, especially this past year, it was hard to let go of a relationship that had been years in the making. plus, when I really stopped and thought about it, I couldn't count how many times Korbie had thrown herself in the road for me. Starting when we were little girls, she'd paid for things I couldn't afford and whined until her parents let me come on family vacations. She made sure I was never left out. Big personality or not, Korbie's small acts of kindness had endeared me to her.

Still.

We were definitely more like sisters than friends: We loved each other, even if we didn't always like each other. And we were always there for each other. Cat and Mandee hadn't chosen hiking in Big Pines over a beach for spring break, though they knew I needed it. But Korbie hadn't hesitated. Well, had barely hesitated. "It wasn't supposed to snow," I fired back. "Your parents told us the roads would be clear to the cabin."

Korbie exhaled a long, pouty sigh and crossed her legs impatiently. "Well, now that we're stuck here, I guess we'll wait for Bear to come rescue us."

"Are you implying it's my fault we're stuck? I can't control the weather."

She turned on me. "All I said is 'We're stuck,'and now you're blowing it out of proportion. Even if I was implying the Wrangler can't handle the weather. It is true, isn't it? You're just mad that I'm right."

My breathing came a little faster. "You want to see the fucking Wrangler make it up this mountain?"

She gestured grandly out the windshield. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"Fine."

"Go ahead. Be my guest. Put the pedal to the metal."

I blew hair out of my eyes and gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles went white. I didn't want to do this. I didn't trust the Wrangler to swim upriver-that's practically what I would be asking it to do.

"You're such a faker," Korbie said. "You're not gonna do it."

I had to do this. I hadn't left myself a choice. I had to prove to Korbie that I could get us up the mountain.

I put the Wrangler in gear, summoning bravado, and steered tentatively into the water that gushed over the road. I was so scared, I felt a bead of sweat trickle down my spine. We hadn't even made it to Big Pines, and already we were running into problems. If I screwed this up, Korbie would never forgive me for dragging her here. Worse, she'd tell her brother, who'd point out that I shouldn't have attempted a rigorous backpacking trip if I couldn't maneuver my car through bad weather. I had to get us through this.

The back tires jerked and skidded but finally grabbed the road and we started climbing. "See?" I said proudly, but my chest still felt cinched in a knot. My foot was frozen on the gas pedal, and I was afraid if I made the slightest adjustment, the Wrangler would slip or slide-or worse, skid over the mountain edge.

"You can pat yourself on the back when we reach the top." Enormous snowflakes flew at the windshield, and I turned the barely usable wipers up a notch. I could only see a few feet in front of the Wrangler. I switched on the high beams. Not much better.

We kept up our crawling pace for another hour. I couldn't see the road anymore-only fleeting glimpses of black pavement beneath blinding white. Every few feet, the tires skidded and locked. I gave the Wrangler more gas, but I knew I couldn't inch my way uphill forever. It was one thing to save face in front of Korbie. It was something else to kill us both needlessly.

The Wrangler stalled out. I restarted it and eased my foot down on the gas. C'mon. Keep going. I wasn't sure if I was coaxing the car or myself. The engine whined and stalled again. The steep grade, compounded by the icy road, made driving any farther impossible.

I couldn't see where on the road I'd stopped, and it scared me. We could be inches from the edge. I turned the hazard lights back on, but it was snowing so heavily no one was going to see them until it was too late.

Pulling out Beck's map, I tried to orient myself. But it was useless. I couldn't see any landmarks through the whiteout snow.

We sat in silence several minutes, our breath clouding the windows. I was glad that for once, Korbie didn't offer commentary. I couldn't handle arguing with her right now. I kept going over our options.

We didn't have food-it was at the cabin. Mrs. Oliver had had her assistant bring it up last weekend so we wouldn't have to. We didn't have cell phone service. We had sleeping bags, but was camping here in the road tonight really an option? What if a truck plowed into us from behind?

"Holy crap," Korbie said, wiping away the vapor on the windows and gawking at the whiteout. Never had I seen snow fall this hard and fast. It covered the road, piling higher.

"Maybe we should turn back now," I said. But that wasn't really an option either. Going downhill on ice seemed far more dangerous than climbing on it. And I was already exhausted from the concentration I'd put into getting us this far. A dull headache scraped my skull.

"We're not turning back. We're going to stay here," Korbie said decisively. "Bear is probably an hour or two behind us. He'll pull us out with his truck."

"We can't sit in the middle of the road, Korbie. It's too dangerous. There has to be a turnout somewhere up ahead. Get out and push."

"Excuse me?"

"We can't park here. We're in the middle of the road." I didn't know if we were in the middle of the road. The ground, the trees, and the sky blurred white. There was no telling where one ended and another began. And while I didn't really think we should try to move the car-not when we couldn't see-I was tired of Korbie's stupid, thoughtless suggestions. I wanted to give her a reality check. "Get out and push."

Korbie's eyes widened, then narrowed. "You can't be serious. It's, like, snowing out there."

"Fine. You drive. I'll push."

"I can't drive stick."

I knew this, and making her admit it didn't improve my mood like I'd hoped. We were stuck and I had no idea how to get us out. A strange feeling fluttered in my throat. I was suddenly afraid we were in worse trouble than either of us understood. I pushed aside the chilling thought and shoved myself out of the car.

Immediately, the wind and snow buffeted my skin. I dug through my coat pockets for my wool ski hat. Five minutes in the snow and it was going to look like a wet dishrag. I had a backup hat, a ball cap that Beck had given me last summer, buried somewhere at the bottom of my pack, but it wasn't waterproof. The whole reason I'd brought it on the trip was for the satisfaction of giving it back to him and sending a clear message that I was over him.

Wrapping my red scarf around my neck, I hoped it fared better than my hat.

"Where are you going?" Korbie shouted through the open door.

"We can't sleep here. If we leave the Jeep running all night, we'll run out of gas. If we don't run the heater, we'll freeze."I held her eyes, making sure she registered what I was saying. I barely understood it myself. The idea that we could be in danger seemed to drift aimlessly at the back of my mind. It wasn't sinking in. I kept thinking of my dad. Did he know it was snowing in the mountains? He could be in his truck now, coming for us. We weren't in real trouble, because my daddy would save us . . . but how would he find us?

"But it wasn't supposed to snow!" Korbie argued shrilly.

If my dad had seen this coming, he wouldn't have let me leave. I'd be home now, safe. But the thought was a waste of time. I was here, it was snowing, and we had to find shelter.

"You're suggesting we sleep out there?" Korbie pointed into the forest, dark and haunted looking in the swirling snow.

Stuffing my hands into my armpits to keep them warm, I said, "We can't be the only people up here. If we walk around, we should be able to find a cabin with lights on."

"What if we get lost?"

The question irritated me. How should I know? I was hungry, I had to use the bathroom, and I was stuck on a mountainside. I was abandoning my car to look for better shelter, and I didn't know if I'd find any. My phone didn't work, I had no way of reaching my dad, and my heart was beating so fast it was making me dizzy.

I shut the driver's-side door and pretended I hadn't heard her question. I pushed "getting lost" far down on my list of things to worry about. If my dad couldn't get up the mountain, if Korbie and I stayed the night in the Wrangler, if we didn't find a cabin, we were going to freeze to death. I hadn't told Korbie, but I wasn't even sure where we were. She had a worse sense of direction than I did, and had put me in charge of reading Mr. Oliver's instructions and getting us safely to Big Pines. The freezing precipitation had iced over the road signs, making them unreadable, and even though I'd pretended to be confident, I wasn't sure the last turn I'd made had been right. There was one main road up the mountain, but if I'd branched off too early, or too late . . .

Bear was following us in his truck, but if we were on the wrong road, he'd never find us. Big Pines could be miles from here.

Korbie met me at the rear of the Wrangler. "Maybe I should stay here while you go look. That way one of us knows where the Wrangler is."

"The Wrangler isn't going to do us any good if this storm lasts through the night," I pointed out. Snow clung to her hair and coat. It was coming down harder. I wanted to believe it would let up soon. I also wanted to believe Bear was close behind. But a feeling of panic deep in my chest told me I couldn't count on it. "We should stay together," I said. It seemed like a good idea. It seemed like the sort of thing Beck would say.

"But what if we miss Bear?" Korbie protested.

"We'll walk around for a half hour. If we don't find anyone, we'll come back."

"Promise?"

"Of course."I tried to keep my voice neutral. I didn't want Korbie to know how worried I was. If she figured out I didn't have everything under control, she would flip. Reasoning with her would be out of the question. I knew her well enough to know she'd either break down crying or start yelling at me.

And then I wouldn't be able to think. And that's what I had to do. Think. Think like someone who knew how to survive. Think like Beck.

I grabbed a small flashlight from the gear and led us into the storm.

We waded through the snow for thirty minutes. Then forty-five. I followed the road to keep from getting lost, but it had grown so dark, and was snowing so heavily, it was easy to get disoriented.

We were coming up on an hour, and I knew I was pressing my luck-Korbie would start whining to go back soon. "A little farther," I said, not for the first time. "Let's see what's up there, behind those trees."

Korbie didn't answer. I wondered if she was really as scared as I was.

The snow bit into my skin like sharp teeth. Every step hurt, and my brain started shifting to another plan. There were sleeping bags and blankets in the Wrangler. We couldn't sleep in the car, not while it was parked on the road, but if we put on our layers of clothes, dug into a snowdrift, and slept close to conserve heat . . .

Light. There. Ahead.

It wasn't a mirage. It was real.

"Lights!" I said, my voice thin with cold. Korbie started crying.

I grabbed her hand and together we trudged through the trees, over ground soft and soggy with snow. It clung to my boots, making each step heavier. A cabin. A cabin. We were going to be all right.

The windows cast enough light for us to see an old, rust-colored truck buried under inches of snow in the driveway. Someone was home.

We ran to the door and I knocked. I didn't wait for an answer; I started knocking louder. Korbie joined me, fists pounding the door. I didn't let myself think what if no one answers, what if they've gone and left the truck behind, what if we have to break in-I was pretty sure I would break in, if it came to that.

A moment later, footsteps sounded on the other side of the door. Relief crashed inside me. I heard a muffled exchange of arguing voices. What was taking them so long? Hurry, hurry, I thought at them.

Open the door. Let us inside.

The porch lights burned to life suddenly, glaring down on Korbie and me like spotlights. I flinched, trying to adjust my vision. We'd been walking in darkness so long, the brightness stung my eyes.

The bolt slid and the door opened with a soft creak. Two men filled the doorway, the taller one withdrawn a few steps. I recognized him right away. He was wearing the same buffalo-check shirt and rugged boots from earlier. Our eyes met, and for one moment, there was nothing but stark surprise blanking his face. He stared at me, and as recognition dawned, his features hardened.

"Ryder?" I said.

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Ooooohhhhh Dun Dun Dun!

Well now you'll just have to wait til I post the next chapter!

Please read and review and let me know what you think.

-HeedragonGillian.


	5. Chapter 5

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sayyouwontletgo: You'll just have to wait and see lol

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CHAPTER FOUR

"Twice in one day," I said, smiling at Ryder through chattering teeth. "That's either a really big coincidence, or fate is trying to tell us something."

Ryder continued to stare down at me, his lips pressed tight, his eyes dark and uninviting. Snow swirled through the open door, but he didn't ask us in. "What are you doing here?"

The guy leaning on the door frame beside Ryder split a curious glance between us. "You know her?" He looked about the same age as Ryder, early twenties. But he was shorter, and built straight up and down like a board, his fitted T-shirt revealing a flat, rawboned chest. Shaggy blond hair fell over his forehead, and behind a pair of round black poet's glasses, his eyes were arctic blue. What held my attention longest was his crooked nose. I wondered how he'd broken it.

"How do you know each other?" Korbie asked, nudging me expectantly.

I couldn't believe I'd forgotten to tell her about Ryder. If I weren't so cold, I might have laughed at the memory of Beck's jealous expression when Ryder and I had convinced him that we were together. I would have to tell Korbie before we got to Big Pines, so I could recruit her help in carrying out my charade in front of Beck.

"We met-" I began, but Ryder cut me off.

"We don't know each other. She was in line with me when I filled up for gas this morning."Those warm, sexy eyes from earlier were cold and hooded now. His tone was curt and irritated. It was hard to imagine he was the same guy I'd flirted with hours ago. I didn't understand why he was being so closed-off now. And why, suddenly, he wasn't interested in keeping up our charade. What had changed?

Our eyes met again, and if he could tell I was confused, he didn't seem to care. "What do you want?"he repeated more harshly.

"What does it look like?" Korbie hugged herself for warmth and danced impatiently on her toes.

"We're stranded," I stammered, thrown off by his hostility. "We got caught in the snowstorm. We're freezing. Can we please come in?"

"Let them in," Ryder's friend said. "Look at them-they're soaking wet."

Without waiting for further permission, Korbie rushed inside and I followed. As Ryder's friend shut the door behind us, the heat seeped into my skin, and I gave a great shudder of relief.

"They can't stay here tonight," Ryder said immediately, positioning himself to block the hallway leading deeper into the cabin.

"If we don't stay here tonight," Korbie said, "we'll turn into human ice cubes. You don't want that on your hands, do you?"

"Sounds serious," Ryder's friend said, a sparkle of amusement in his eyes. "And no, we definitely don't want to be held accountable for human ice cubes. Especially ones that look much better in their warm-blooded form."

In reply to his flirting, Korbie bobbed a curtsy and flashed a shameless smile.

"Where's your car?" Ryder demanded. "where did you park?"

"Out on the main road below your cabin," I said. "we walked an hour to get here."

"The car is probably buried under a snowdrift by now," Korbie added.

"Unbelievable," Ryder muttered, glowering at me. Like this was my fault. well, excuse me for not controlling the fucking weather. Excuse me for asking for a little help, a little hospitality.

"Are you alone?" Ryder's friend asked. "Just the two of you? I'm Shaun, by the way."

"And I'm Korbie," she returned in a velvety voice.

Shaun shook Korbie's hand, then reached for mine. I was too cold to pull it out of my pocket. Huddling into my coat, I nodded my acknowledgment instead. "Jade."

"Yup, just the two of us," Korbie said, answering his question. "You have to let us stay. It'll be fun, promise," she added with a coy, perky smile.

I ignored Korbie's flirting and watched Ryder closely. I didn't understand why he was acting so strangely. He'd bent over backward for me earlier. I glanced around his large frame, deeper into the cabin, looking for a clue to explain his sudden coldness. Had Korbie and I interrupted something? Was there something-or someone-he didn't want us to see?

As far as I could tell, Ryder and Shaun were alone in the cabin. Evident by the two men's coats drying on hooks across the foyer. "It'll be fun, the four of us holed up here together," Korbie assured them. "We can snuggle close to conserve body heat," she added with a giggle.

I shifted my irritation to Korbie. What an asinine thing to say. We didn't even know these guys, not really. And she seemed to have completely forgotten that up until a few minutes ago, we thought we were going to freeze in the mountains. I was still shaken from the scare, and watching her turn on her charm for Shaun made me want to shake her. I'd been terrified in the forest. Really terrified. What was the matter with her, that she could flip a switch and go from sobbing to giggling in the same breath?

"We'll only stay one night," I told Ryder and Shaun. "We'll take off first thing."

Shaun draped his arm over Ryder's shoulder and said, "What do you think, buddy? Should we help these poor girls out?"

"No," Ryder answered automatically, shrugging off Shaun's arm with a scowl. "You can't stay here," he told me.

"We can't stay outside either," I shot back. I found it ironic that I was begging for a place to stay. Because the more we talked, the less I wanted to be inside the cabin with Ryder. I didn't get it. There was no trace of the easygoing, playful guy in the man standing before me now. Why had his attitude shifted?

"Sometimes you have to ignore the Ace," Shaun explained to us with a strange smile. "He's good for a lot of things, but friendliness isn't one of them."

"News flash," Korbie said under her breath.

"C'mon, Ace. Could be worse," Shaun said, clapping Ryder on the back. "Take for instance . . ."He scratched his cheek thoughtfully. "Actually, I can't think of anything better than waiting out this storm in the company of two attractive girls. In fact, these girls wandering in is the best thing that could have happened to us."

"Can I talk to you alone?" Ryder asked in a low, tight voice. "Sure, after we warm up these girls. Look-they're freezing. Poor things."

"Now."

"oh, get over it," Korbie told Ryder exasperatedly. "We're not ax murderers. I'll even pinkie promise to it," she added playfully to Shaun.

Shaun grinned at Ryder, punching him lightly in the chest. "Hear that, buddy? She'll pinkie promise."

All this back and forth was testing my patience. I was so numb with cold, I was tempted to barrel past Ryder toward the fire I could see burning in the hearth. It cast lively shadows on the walls of the den at the end of the hallway. I imagined sitting close enough to feel its heat and finally warm up.

"One night isn't going to kill anyone, is it, Ace?" Shaun went on. "What kind of men are we if we turn these girls away?"

Ryder said nothing, but the muscles in his face visibly tightened. He couldn't have made his feelings more clear. He didn't want us in the cabin. Shaun, on the other hand, was more than happy to let us stay as long as we needed. Had the two argued before Korbie and I arrived? I could feel the tension between them crackling like a live wire.

"Can we please talk this over in front of the fireplace?" Korbie asked.

"Good idea," Shaun said, leading the way. I watched Korbie follow him down the hall toward the den, unraveling her scarf as she went.

Left alone with Ryder, I caught his eye, and for one second, I saw his face go slack with defeat.

The look was gone in an instant, his expression hardening. With anger? Animosity? His gaze cut into mine, and I thought maybe he was trying to tell me something. There was an intensity to his eyes that seemed to indicate a deeper meaning. "What the hell is your problem?"I muttered, attempting to step around him. Ryder stood directly in front of me, blocking the hallway, and I expected him to step aside at my approach. He didn't. He kept me boxed in the doorway, his body uncomfortably close. "Thanks for the warm welcome," I said. "So warm, I've almost thawed."

"This isn't a good idea."

"What isn't a good idea?"I challenged, hoping he'd tell me why he was acting so bizarrely.

"You shouldn't be here."

"Why not?"

I waited for him to answer, but he merely continued to eye me in that dark, fierce way.

Coolly, I said, "We didn't exactly have a choice. I guess it's too much to ask you to save my butt twice in one day."

"What are you talking about?" he said irritably.

"You helped me save face in front of my ex, remember? But keeping me from freezing to death is obviously too big a burden."

"What's with the whispering?"Shaun hollered from the den. He and Korbie sat together on the leather love seat, and her legs were crossed toward him. It almost looked like the toe of her boot was touching his leg. Clearly she'd gotten over waiting for Bear to rescue her. "Get in here where it's warm."

Ryder lowered his voice, speaking with quiet urgency. "Is it as bad as you say? Is your car really stuck? If I take you to it later tonight, can we dig it out?"

"Anything to keep me from staying here?" I asked testily. I didn't deserve to be treated like this. Not after what we'd shared earlier. I wanted an explanation. Where was the Ryder from before?

"Just answer the question," he said in that same low, hurried voice. "No. The road is too icy and the grade is too steep. The car isn't going anywhere tonight."

"You're sure?"

"Quit being such a tool." I stepped around him, even though he didn't make it easy. He stayed rooted to the spot; I brushed his arm as I squeezed between him and the wall.

Halfway down the hallway, I glanced back. He still had his back to me, and was scrubbing his hand roughly over his cropped hair. What was bothering him? Whatever it was, it was making me antsy too.

Even though Korbie and I were out of the storm, I didn't feel completely safe inside the cabin. Other than from my run-in with him this morning, I didn't know Ryder. I knew Shaun even less. And while Korbie and I were no longer in danger of freezing to death, we were staying the night with two guys we didn't know if we could trust. It was unnerving. For now, I had no choice but to keep my guard up and hope the snow stopped soon.

I met Shaun and Korbie in the den. "Thanks again for letting us crash here," I said. "This weather sucks."

"I'll drink to that," Shaun said, raising a plastic cup of water. "Do you have a land line?" Korbie piped up. "Our cell phones aren't getting service out here."

"No phone. But we do have chili and warm beer. And an extra bed. Where were you planning to crash tonight? Before the storm hit, I mean," Shaun asked us.

"At my family's cabin," Korbie answered. "Big Pines."

Shaun's face didn't register recognition. Which meant I'd probably taken a wrong turn and we were nowhere close to Big Pines. "It's the really big, beautiful cabin with stone chimneys," I added, hoping to stir his memory. Big Pines sat alone on the lake and was a landmark in and of itself.

"How far is your cabin from here?"Ryder cut in, his voice preceding him down the hallway. He stopped in the den's entrance. "I can walk you there."

Shaun shot a brief, displeased glance at Ryder, subtly but firmly shaking his head no. In response, the line of Ryder's mouth tightened and I felt a strain in the black look they shared.

"Might want to check the road conditions before you commit to that," Korbie chimed in. "Envision a layer of mud, several inches deep. And then imagine eight inches of snow and growing on top of it. Nobody is going anywhere tonight."

"You got that right," Shaun said, rising from the love seat. "Can I offer you girls a drink? We've got water and hot chocolate mix, though I can't vouch for its freshness. And two bottles of warm beer."

"Water, please," I said. "You got it. Korbie?"

"Same," she said, folding her hands on her knees and flashing him a winning smile.

"Ace, buddy?"

Ryder hovered near the entrance to the den, a clouded, almost uneasy look on his face. He must have been thinking hard about something, because a few seconds delayed, he jerked. "What?"

"Drink?"

"I'll get it myself."

When Shaun disappeared into the kitchen, Ryder stuffed his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wall, never peeling his eyes off us. I cocked my eyebrow at him in a challenging way. I told myself I was better off ignoring him, but I couldn't help it. Curiosity was tearing away inside me. What was with the moody act? Where was the friendly and, dare I say it, sexy guy from this morning? Because I wanted that guy back. In a way I couldn't explain, I wanted that guy more than I wanted Beck right now. Which said a lot.

"This place is so adorably rustic," Korbie said, her eyes tracing the exposed timbers along the ceiling. "Which one of you does it belong to?" Korbie and I looked at Ryder when he failed to answer.

With an exasperated sigh, Korbie pushed off the love seat, crossed to Ryder, and snapped her fingers in his face. "It's called English. Use it."

Shaun came back into the room at that moment. "It's Ace's cabin," he said. "His parents recently passed and they gave it to him in their will. This is our first time up here since the funeral."

"oh." I swallowed. "It must be really hard-the memories, I mean," I stammered diplomatically. Ryder didn't appear to hear me, or chose not to. His eyes were fastened on Shaun, his eyebrows drawn, his gaze inflamed.

"Ace doesn't like to talk about it," Shaun explained easily, with an almost humorous twitch of his lips. "He's an atheist. Death always makes him shifty. Doesn't believe in the afterlife. Right, buddy?"

None of us said anything. I cleared my throat, finding Shaun's insensitivity a bit much, even if I was so over caring about Ryder's feelings.

Shaun broke the tension with a disarming laugh. "You girls are too gullible for your own good. You should see your faces right now. The cabin is mine, not Ace's. And before you ask, his parents are perfectly healthy retirees living in Scottsdale, Arizona."

"You're worse than my brother," Korbie groaned, tossing a sofa pillow at Shaun.

Shaun's grin split his face. "This is the price you're gonna have to pay for sleeping here tonight-putting up with my twisted sense of humor."He rubbed his hands together. "So, tell me. What are you girls doing up here in the mountains alone?"

"Starving," Korbie announced bluntly. "It's dinnertime. Can we eat and then talk? I swear I lost ten pounds hiking here."

Shaun looked at me and Ryder, then shrugged. "Fair enough. I'm gonna make you girls the best damn-good chili of your lives, wait and see."

"Go work your magic," Korbie encouraged him, with a shoo of her wrist. "But you're on your own. I don't do manual labor, cooking included. And don't bother asking Jade for help either. She's even worse at cooking than I am," she said, eyeing me in a way that warned, Don't you dare help him-he's mine.

I knew Korbie's reasons for not wanting me alone in the kitchen with Shaun. But I was surprised to see Ryder stand alert suddenly, as if he intended to jump in and intervene should I decide to leave the room with his friend. He stared me down, and it looked a lot like a warning. I found the whole thing bizarrely comical. He didn't want me here. Or there. Or anywhere. He especially didn't want me alone with Shaun. Well, too bad. If that's what it took to goad him back, I wasn't going to pass up the opportunity.

"Korbie's right, I am an awful cook," I confessed to Shaun. "But just because I'm bad at something doesn't mean I'll refuse to do it," I added, a subtle dig at Korbie. "I'd love to help you cook dinner."

Before anyone could stop me, I strolled into the kitchen.

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Idk about you guys but Grumpy Ryder sounds hot lol x)

Anyways, I might post the next chapter later on today.

Please read and review and let me know what you think!

-HeedragonGillian.


	6. Chapter 6

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CHAPTER FIVE

The cabin's kitchen was fully furnished, with a knotty pine table, a Navajo rug, and framed pictures of the Teton Range in various seasons. Aluminum pots and pans dangled from a hanging rack above the island. A layer of dust dimmed the pots' luster, and cobwebs hung like silvery streamers from the rack. Obviously Shaun didn't make it up here often.

A fire blazed in the double-sided fireplace that shared a wall with the den. The room smelled pleasantly of smoke and wood. I was in awe that Shaun could afford such a place. It wasn't anywhere as nice as the Oliver's' cabin, but Korbie's mom had been a successful divorce attorney for years.

"What do you do for a living?" I had to know. Had he graduated from college already? Was he a cutthroat investment banker, some kind of financial genius?

He flashed me an easy but self-deprecating smile. "I'm a ski bum. I'm putting college on hold until I know what I want to do with my life. Technically, this place belongs to my parents. But they don't ski anymore, so they handed it off to me. I'm up here all the time."

He must order out a lot, I thought. The pots hadn't been used in ages. "You're pretty far from the resort, though, right?"

"I don't mind the drive."

I washed my hands in the sink, but since there wasn't a dish towel, I dried them on my jeans. "Where should I start? I have mean can-opening skills." Before Shaun could stop me, I went to the pantry and opened the door.

To my surprise, except for two cans of chili and a faded canister of Swiss Miss hot chocolate mix, the shelves were completely bare.

Shaun came up behind me. "We forgot to go shopping before we came up," he explained.

"There's no food," I said, dazed.

"The snow will stop by morning and we'll hit the store then." The closest general store was miles away. We'd passed it on our way up. "You didn't buy any food on your way into the mountains?"

"We were in a hurry," Shaun said almost sharply.

I didn't push the issue, because his tone made it clear he didn't want to discuss it. But his lack of preparation struck me as alarming. Shaun said he came to the cabin often to ski, but it almost seemed like no one had been living here for a long time. There was something else bothering me. Something about Shaun was a little off. He was charming and friendly, but not necessarily warm or genuine.

Or maybe I was just being paranoid because I was stuck in a cabin with two guys I didn't know. My dad would flip if he knew. The truth was, Shaun had invited us in. He was cooking us dinner. I needed to relax and accept his hospitality.

I opened the cans of chili slowly, feeling the urge to preserve them, knowing they were the only food we had to outlast the storm, and if it grew into something much worse, this might be all we had to stay alive for days. I had granola bars in the Jeep, and wished I'd grabbed them. Almost hesitantly, I passed the cans to Shaun, who'd turned up the heat under a large pot on the stove.

Out of habit, I checked my cell phone for new texts. Maybe Beck had tried to call. He knew we were supposed to arrive at Big Pines around six, and it was almost nine now.

"Until you get down to lower elevation and out of the trees, your cell phone is nothing but dead weight in your pocket."

I groaned lightly. Shaun was right. "I swear I can't go five minutes without checking it. A bad habit. I feel so useless without it."

"What about you?" he asked. "You come up here often?"

I waved my phone high over my head, but no signal bars magically appeared. "Sure," I said absently.

"Do you know the area pretty good?"

"Better than Korbie." I laughed. "And yes, that was a note of pride you detected, since she's the one with the family cabin. I always had the better sense of direction." Except that mine hadn't been very reliable on the drive up, in the rain. But I kept that to myself.

"And Korbie plays the better damsel in distress."

I didn't bother telling him that usually I played that gig better too, since the tone he used in referring to Korbie wasn't particularly flattering.

"So, are you guys up here for spring break?" he went on. "Let me guess-girls' weekend at the cabin? Lots of Christian Bale movies, ice cream, and gossip?"

"Swap James McAvoy for Christian Bale, and you could pretty much go into business as a psychic," I quipped.

"Seriously, I really want to know what you're doing up here. You know about me, now it's my turn to find out about you."

I wanted to point out that I knew next to nothing about him, but I was more than happy to talk about myself. "Korbie and I are backpacking the crest of the Big Pines. Forty miles. We've been preparing for this trip all year."

His brows arched in admiration. "The entire crest? Impressive. Don't take this the wrong way, but Korbie doesn't strike me as the outdoorsy type."

"0h, she doesn't know about the forty miles part yet."

That earned me a loud, resonating laugh. "Wish I could see her face when you break the news."

I smiled. "It'll be memorable, I'm sure."

"I bet you've got a lot of sweet gear in your car."

"Top of the line." Korbie had put her mom in charge of buying our gear, and Mrs. Oliver had passed the assignment off to her assistant, who had no problem spending her boss's money. Everything had arrived Next Day Air from Cabela's. I wasn't going to complain about our windfall, but there was one tiny red flag. I knew Mr. Oliver had made Beck pay for his own gear over the years. If Beck found out that his parents had paid for ours, he would blow into a rage. He constantly complained that they sheltered Korbie, and when we'd dated, he'd nursed resentment that his parents didn't even try to make things fair between him and his sister. I doubted much had changed since he'd left for Stanford. For the sake of keeping the peace, I'd have to remind Korbie not to mention anything about our gear to Beck.

"I'll bet you're an expert on the area," Shaun said.

He had opened the door with a little flattery, and I found myself diving headlong through it. "I come up here to hike often," I said, the white lie out before I could stop it. "I've been doing shorter hikes on the weekends to prepare for this trip."At least that much was true. "I wanted to go into this completely prepared. Most of my friends are in Hawaii for spring break, but I wanted to do something really challenging, you know?"

"And it's really only you and Korbie? Your parents aren't meeting you up here?"

I hesitated, almost mentioning Beck and Bear, but at the last moment changed my mind. First rule of talking to a boy: Never drag your ex into the conversation. It makes you look clingy. And bitter.

"My mom died when I was young, so it's just my dad now." I shrugged, cool as can be. "He trusts me. He knows I can handle myself. I told him I'd see him at the end of the week. If I'm in trouble, he knows I'll get myself out of it." Now I was really exaggerating. My dad had never witnessed me digging myself out of trouble. The idea was unthinkable. My dad was a model of indulgent parenting. I suspected it was because I was a girl, and the baby, and because I'd lost my mom to cancer before I was old enough to remember her. My dad was always standing by, ready to save me from even the most minor inconveniences. The truth was, I was comfortable being dependent on him-and every other man in my life. It had worked out well for me . . . until it had led to my heart being broken.

Shaun smiled in a funny way. "What?" I asked.

"Nothing. I'm just surprised. I had you and Korbie pegged as silly high school girls. The stereotypical giggling, helpless, awkward type."

I batted my eyes. "I don't know what to do with all this flattery." We both laughed.

"I amend my statement," he said, lowering his voice to keep our conversation from drifting out of the kitchen. "I knew Korbie's type from the minute you guys came knocking. But you were harder to peg. You're good looking and smart, and it threw me. Most pretty girls I've met don't have the complete package. They're crazy, sure, up for adventure, but not like this. Not up for hiking the crest of the Big Pines."

His response could not have been more perfect. I wanted Beck to hear his words, all of them. I wanted Beck to see that an older boy, older even than him, was interested in me and believed in me. I gave Shaun a coy smirk. "Are you flirting with me, Shaun?"

"I think the honor of biggest flirt goes to Korbie," he answered. I wasn't expecting that, and it took me a moment to think up an equally cagey response. "Korbie's good at what she does."

"And what about you?" He took a step closer. "Do you ever flirt, Jade?"

I hesitated. I hardly knew Shaun. What's more, Korbie had called dibs on him. But she was the one with a boyfriend. If anything, I should have dibs.

"At the right moment," I said with a shrewd smile. "With the right boy."

"And this moment?" He stood so close now, his husky whisper was directly in my ear. "This moment is headed somewhere, and we both know it."

I wondered if his pulse was thrumming like mine. I wondered if he kept stealing glances at my lips, the way I shamelessly watched his.

"What about Korbie?" I said in a soft voice.

"What about her?"

"She likes you."

"And I like you."He poured us each a plastic cup of water, then raised his to mine in a toast. "To the snowstorm. For trapping you here with me."

I tapped my cup to his, grateful to have found Shaun, because for a minute there, I'd thought I was going to have to save myself. Instead, I'd wandered into the protective care of a sexy older man.

I dared any of my friends to return from spring break with a better story.

A few minutes before the chili finished simmering, Korbie and I went to the bathroom to tidy up for dinner.

"Did you have fun cooking with Shaun?" she asked, her tone testy.

"It was okay," I said neutrally, giving away nothing. A petty part of me liked keeping her in suspense. Payback for her shots at the Wrangler.

"You left me alone with Frankenstein."

"Frankenstein is the name of the doctor. I left you alone with Frankenstein's monster. And anyway, you didn't have to stay in the den. You could have come in and helped me and Shaun."

"Not after I said I don't cook!"

I shrugged as if to say, Your problem.

"What did you and Shaun talk about?" Korbie grilled me.

"Why do you care? You have Bear."

"Shaun's here, Bear's not. Well? What did you talk about?"

I finished rinsing my hands, but since there wasn't a hand towel in the bathroom either, I had to dry them on my jeans again. "oh, you know. Typical stuff. Mostly we talked about our backpacking trip."

Korbie looked relieved. "That's it? Just the backpacking trip? You didn't try to flirt with him?"

"And what if I did?" I said defensively.

"I have dibs."

"You have Bear."

"Bear and I are going to different colleges in the fall."

"So?"

"So we aren't forever. What's the point of being completely loyal when I know our relationship is going to end? And I don't really appreciate your self-righteous attitude. You and Beck were hardly the exemplary couple."

I turned, backing myself against the countertop to face her head on. "What are you talking about?"

"He kissed Rachel. At my pool party last summer." I gasped. "Rachel Snauely?"

Korbie raised her brows superiorly. "Nobody's perfect, Jade. Get over it."

The idea of Beck kissing Rachel made me squeeze the ledge of the counter hard between my fingers. Beck and I had started dating in April, a year ago. Korbie's pool party had been in July. I'd been faithfully devoted to Beck until he broke up with me in October, but obviously he hadn't returned the gesture. Was Rachel a onetime slip-up? Or had he cheated on me even earlier? And what about Rachel? How had she justified going behind my back?

"And it just now occurred to you that I might want to know?"

"You need a reality check. We have the rest of our lives to be committed. Right now, life is about having fun."

Is that what Beck told himself while kissing Rachel? That having fun overrode his commitment to me? And how had Rachel justified her actions? I couldn't wait to ask her. Scratch my earlier plans. There was no way I was hooking up with Beck over spring break.

"Dinner's ready!" Shaun hollered from the kitchen.

Korbie grabbed my sleeve before I could march out of the bathroom. "I have dibs," she repeated more firmly.

I glanced down at where her fingers curled tightly into my shirt. "You only want him because I do," she went on, irrationally angry. "You always want what I have. And it's tiring. Stop being so fake. Stop trying to be me."

Her words burned, but not because they were true. I hated when she turned on me like this. At these moments, our relationship seemed so dysfunctional, I questioned why we even stayed friends. I almost brought up the secret list in her diary-almost asked, if I was trying so hard to be her, why was she taking note of every little thing I did, said, and had, and making sure to top it? But doing so would mean admitting I'd looked in her diary, and I had more pride than that. plus, if I revealed I knew her secret, she'd make sure I never got a chance to look in her diary again, and I wasn't going to forfeit that opportunity just yet.

I pulled on a patient smile, knowing it would infuriate her. She wanted to drag me into a fight so I'd spend the night sulking, and I wasn't going to lose this game. I was going to flirt my ass off with Shaun. "I think we should go to dinner; the boys are waiting," I said in a light, unruffied tone. I left the bathroom ahead of Korbie.

Before I reached the kitchen, I heard Shaun and Ryder arguing in low, tense voices.

"What were you thinking? Are you even thinking?" Ryderdemanded.

"I've got everything under control."

"Under control? Are you serious? Take a look around, man."

"I'm gonna get us off this mountain. We're fine. I've got this."

"No one wants off this mountain more than me," Ryder hissed.

Shaun chuckled. "You're stuck with me, buddy. Damn unlucky weather. What cha gonna do?"

I frowned, wondering what exactly they were arguing over, but neither one said more on the subject.

Ryder didn't join us for dinner. He retreated to the far side of the kitchen, propping one shoulder on the window frame and shifting his steely gaze between the three of us. He looked almost as morose as the stuffed buck head hanging over the mantle in the den. Every few minutes he raked his hand through his short hair, or rubbed the back of his neck, but otherwise he kept his hands shoved deep inside his pockets. Shadows pooled in the hollows of his eyes, but I couldn't decide if they were from fatigue or worry, or if he needed sleep. I didn't know why he was so upset, or why he didn't like having Korbie and me in the cabin, but it was clear he wanted us gone. If Shaun weren't here, he'd probably boot us out. Right into the storm. At that moment, he looked up and found me staring at him.

He gave a subtle shake of his head. I didn't know what it meant. If he had something to tell me, why didn't he come right out and say it?

"Hungry, Ace?"Shaun asked him. Shaun placed bowls, spoons, and napkins on the table, then began opening cabinet doors and drawers at random. It struck me as odd that he didn't know his way around his own kitchen. Then again, my brother, Ian, was always hunting for kitchen utensils, and we'd lived in the same house our whole lives. At last Shaun found what he was looking for: He pulled a trivet from the drawer beside the oven and laid it at the center of the table.

Ryder, who'd been peering out the window into the darkness, dropped the curtain. "No."

"More for us," Korbie said. I could tell she didn't like Ryder. I didn't blame her. He'd hardly said anything, and his expression when he had one-fell somewhere between sullen and menacing.

"Still snowing?" Shaun asked him.

"Heavily."

"Well, it can't go on forever."

Shaun ladled chili into three bowls, and the moment he sat down, Korbie plopped herself in the chair next to him. "So," she said to Shaun. "What are you boys doing up here? You never told us."

"Skiing."

"The whole week?"

"That's the plan."

"But you didn't bring any food. I looked in the fridge. It's empty. Not even milk."

Shaun shoveled a spoonful of chili into his mouth. He grimaced. "This is the worst chili I've ever had. Tastes like rust."

Korbie took a bite and made a face. "No, it tastes like sand. It's gritty. Did you check when the cans expired?"

Shaun gave an aggravated snort. "Beggars can't be choosers."

She pushed the bowl away. "Well, I'd rather starve than eat that."

"It can't be that bad," Ryder said, and we all looked up. Ryder's eyes flickered warily between Shaun and Korbie, like he anticipated something bad was about to happen.

"Says the guy who hasn't tried it," Korbie returned snidely. "I'd give anything for a filet of salmon right now. My family always eats salmon at our cabin. Salmon with jasmine rice and steamed green beans. In the summer we eat salmon with arugula and pine nuts. Sometimes my mom makes this incredible mango chutney to go with it."

"Well, go on," Shaun said, setting his spoon down harder than necessary. "Tell us what you had to drink, and what you ate for dessert."

"Are you making fun of me?" she said, pouting.

"Just eat the chili," Ryder said from across the room, and I wondered why he'd gotten involved.

He'd made it clear he wanted nothing to do with us. There had to be a long list of things he'd rather be doing that skulking around the dinner table.

"The botulism risk is looking pretty high," Korbie said snobbishly. "I'll pass. This is what you get for asking Jade to cook with you. I warned you she's awful in the kitchen."

Shaun chuckled under his breath, but it seemed to carry a harsh undertone. I was sure I'd imagined it until he said in a stiff, eerie voice, "Don't be ungrateful, Korbie."

"I see how it is. You can make fun of the chili but I can't? Isn't that kind of shallow?"Korbie teased him. "Besides, I was blaming Jade."

"Eat the damn chili." The soft, threatening way Shaun said it made the hairs on my arms stand up.

"This is why you should have brought fresh food," Korbie said, turning up her nose.

"Give him a break," I murmured to Korbie, who was evidently still bemused and not feeling the tense charge in the air.

"If we wake up with stomach cramps in the middle of the night, we'll know who to blame," she said, eyeing me blackly. I wasn't sure Korbie understood that even though she was targeting me, she was inadvertently being rude and ungrateful to Shaun. And it was clearly digging under his skin. I wished she'd get over her anger at me long enough to see that she was making things very strained for everyone.

I glanced at Shaun. His face had transformed to rigid angles, his blue eyes snapping. I squirmed in my seat. My heart beat faster, but I was more uncertain than afraid. Again, that feeling that something wasn't right. The whole room felt alive with voltage, but surely Shaun wasn't upset over the insults. That was just Korbie. She never knew when to shut her mouth. And even when she did know better, it didn't stop her-her mouth was on autopilot. She had to have the final say. Hadn't he figured that out by now?

"Give me the chili," Ryder said, striding over and breaking the tension that seemed to crackle around the table like electricity. He scooped up Korbie's bowl, but not before giving her a dark, berating look.

Korbie blinked at him, too stunned to respond.

After a moment, Shaun tipped his chair back on its hind legs and laced his fingers behind his head. He grinned at us in turn, as if nothing had happened. "Ace, I think we should probably get down to business."

"If we're talking about washing dishes, I'm out," Korbie said. "I vote the Ace does them," she added with a vengeful glitter in her eyes. "He seems quite enamored with my bowl. He's cradling it almost affectionately in his hands. Let him play out his romantic fantasy a couple more minutes. You like them when they don't talk back, right, Ace? You like them about as mannered and conversational as yourself?"

I snickered behind my hand. Partially out of nervousness, and partially to diffuse whatever was going on. The tension in the air was thick enough to touch.

"What gear did you bring?"

It took me a moment to realize Ryder was addressing me. He'd carried Korbie's bowl to the sink, and had asked the question without bothering to turn around and face me.

"Your car. What gear did you pack?" he repeated. "What did you bring to the mountains?"

"Why?" I didn't see what our gear had to do with anything. "Sleeping bags, tents, nonperishable food? Anything useful?"

"Useful to who? You already have a furnished cabin."

"We have sleeping bags, a tent, first aid, and some food," Korbie said. "But everything's stuck in the car. Which is stuck in the road. Which is why we came here." She spoke each word slowly, implying that we'd already gone over this and Ryder wasn't very quick on the draw.

Ignoring Korbie, Ryder asked me, "Matches?"

"No, a fire starter."

"Compass and map?"

"Compass." For whatever reason, I left Beck's map out. It was still tucked in my back pocket.

"Flashlights?"

"Yes, and headlamps."

"Ice axe?"

"No." I'd thought about bringing one, but didn't think I'd get a chance to use it-not with Korbie's definition of backpacking.

"Why does any of this matter?"Korbie interjected, exasperated.

"Because," Shaun said, rising to his feet, "Ace and I are stuck here too, waiting out the storm. Only we didn't bring gear, because we didn't plan on staying long. If we're going to get out of here before the snow melts and the roads clear, we'll need your gear. And that's exactly what we're going to do-get off this damn mountain as soon as possible."

It took me a minute to register that the object he pulled from the waistband of his jeans was a gun. He waved it indolently at me, and a strange urge to laugh bubbled in my throat. The picture I was seeing and the picture in my mind weren't matching up. A gun. Pointed at me. The reality of it floated just out of reach.

"Shaun?" I asked, believing this had to be a joke, his quirky sense of humor.

He didn't acknowledge me.

"Both of you, in the den," he directed in a cold, detached voice. "We can do this the easy way, or the way that gets you killed. And believe me, if you scream or fight or argue, I will shoot."

I stared back, my body numb. That bizarre urge to laugh continued to tickle my throat. And then I saw Shaun's eyes. They were icy and unfeeling, and I wondered how I'd missed it before.

He said, "If there's one thing you need to know about me, it's that I don't bluff. Your bodies won't be found for days, and by then Ace and I will be through the mountains and far from here. We've got nothing to lose. So, girls." He watched us. "What's it gonna be?"

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That cabin is sure warming up the girls lol

Until the next chapter.

Read and review and let me know what you think about the story so far!

-HeedragonGillian


	7. Chapter 7

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Sayyouwontletgo: Yes, you catch on fast lol

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CHAPTER SIX

Icy fear fluttered in my veins, but I did exactly as he directed.

Rising from the kitchen table, I numbly allowed Shaun to corral me out of the room. Korbie was directly behind me, and I heard her sniffiing. I knew what she was thinking, because it was the same thought racing through my own mind. How long until Beck realized we were in trouble and came looking for us?

And when he did, how would he find us given the snow, the possibility that I'd taken a wrong turn, and the fact that we'd hiked a good distance from the car? There was no logical way for him to find us.

Shaun marched us through the den and opened a door, revealing a small, unfinished storage room with empty plastic shelves lining the walls. At first I thought it was a water pipe running from the floor to the ceiling, but when he flipped on the light, I saw that it was a solid metal pole. Something about the pole only made the room more terrifying. There were nicks along the shaft, nicks that could have been made by friction from a chain. The rank smell of urine and wet dog permeated the enclosed space. I had to will myself not to speculate further.

Shaun told Ryder," Keep Korbie here. I want to talk to Jade alone."

"You can't do this!" Korbie shrieked. "Do you know who I am? Do you have any idea who I am?"

The last word had barely escaped when Shaun smacked the gun across her face. A red welt sprang up in its path.

I gasped. My dad never touched me roughly. He never raised his voice to me. Outside of television and movies, I had only seen a man strike another person once. Years ago, I'd been invited to sleep over at Korbie's, and in the middle of the night, I'd crawled out of bed for a drink. In the shadows of the hallway outside her bedroom, I watched Mr. Oliver give a sharp blow to Beck's head, knocking him flat on his back. Mr. Oliver barked for Beck to get up and take his discipline like a man, but Beck lay there, unmoving. I couldn't tell if he was breathing. Mr. Oliver pried open his son's eyelids and felt his neck for a pulse. Then he carried him to bed. I hurried back to Korbie's bed, but I didn't fall asleep. I didn't know if Beck was okay. I wanted to check on him, but what if Mr. Oliver returned? I never told Beck what I saw. I spent years trying to scrub that memory from my mind.

Korbie whimpered, clutching her cheek.

Just like that night outside Korbie's bedroom, I felt hot and sick, and I wanted to cry, even though Korbie was hurting, not me.

I caught a flash of something dark and loathsome in Ryder's eyes, but he blinked it away and obediently guided Korbie into the storage room while Shaun steered me down the hall to the bathroom with a rough prod of his gun. He jerked his head at the toilet seat. "Sit."

He left the door ajar, a crack of light spilling into the room. I waited for my eyes to adjust to the shadows. Slowly, his face took shape, his eyes becoming dark holes that watched me, judging, calculating, evaluating.

"The cabin isn't yours, is it?" I asked quietly. "It doesn't belong to you."

He ignored me, but I already knew the answer.

"Did you break in?" I continued. "Are you and Ryder in trouble?" If the police were searching for them, I worried what it meant for Korbie and me. We could identify them. We knew other information too, like what cars they drove. I could direct police to the security cameras at the 7-Eleven and show them exactly what Ryder looked like. Korbie and I were a liability. There was nothing stopping Shaun from killing us.

He laughed, the sound sharp and cruel. "Do you really think I'm going to answer your questions, Jade?" He braced a fist against the wall, leaning over me. "The gear you told us about earlier. We need it."

"It's in my car."

"Can you find your way back?"

I was about to give a surly no when the faintest worry scratched at the edge of my mind. Instinctively, I said, "Yes, I think so."

He nodded, his gun-hand relaxing, and I knew I'd given the right answer. "How far?"

"In the snow, we could walk it in about an hour."

"Good. Now tell me the best way out of the mountains on foot. No roads or trails. I want to stay in the woods."

I flinched. "You want to go on foot? Through the trees?"

"We leave tonight. As soon as we get the gear and supplies." Shaun was definitely in trouble. If we were going through the forest, it was to avoid being seen. I couldn't think of a single other explanation. Hiking through the forest-at night, in a storm-was dangerous. I didn't need Beck's expertise to know that. By now, several inches of snow blanketed the ground. Trekking through it would be bitterly cold and slow. If we became stranded, no one would discover us.

"Do you know the way or not?" Shaun asked.

The thought that had been scratching wildly at the back of my brain broke through at that moment and made me see with clarity what Shaun was doing. This was a test. I was up first, followed by Korbie. He'd weigh our answers. He needed to know we could navigate him off the mountain. Otherwise, we were worthless to him.

Forcing myself to be brave, I looked at him squarely. "I've been coming to these mountains for years. I know my way around. I've backpacked parts of the Crest Trail multiple times, and I've hiked all over the mountain range. I can get you off it. It will be a lot harder traveling through a snowstorm, but I can do it."

"This is useful, Jade. Good work. I need you to take us somewhere where I can lift a car. What do you say to that?" Shaun leaned in close, resting his hands on his knees. His face was level with mine, and I could see his mind working rapidly behind his eyes. If I blew this, it was over.

"I'll take you through the forest to the highway. It will be one of the first roads they plow." I didn't know where the highway was in relation to us. I didn't even know where we were. But I had Beck's map. If Shaun left me alone for a few minutes, I might be able to use it to determine our location and figure out which direction we should travel. I wanted to take Shaun to the highway.

A highway meant cars. People. Help. "How far to the highway?"

"Six miles," I guessed. "But we won't be taking a direct route. Maybe seven?"

"That's my girl." He stuck his head out the door and hollered to Ryder, while I shut my eyes in relief. I'd passed this portion of the test. I'd kept us alive a little longer. Granted, the hardest part-convincing them I knew what I was doing once we were hiking through the trees-was yet to come. "Time to switch. Korbie's up next."

Korbie and I didn't speak as we passed. Our eyes met briefly, and I saw that hers were red and glassy. Her nose was swollen, and her bottom lip trembled. My own fingers started to shake, and I squeezed them into fists. I gave her a nod; a secret message passed between us. Beck and Bear will find us.

But I didn't fully believe it.

Outside, the wind pushed big, wet snowflakes against the storage room window. The snow swirled, making me think of schools of tiny white fish.

Choosing a spot farther down the wall, so that the pole wasn't directly in my line of vision, I leaned back and hugged my knees to my chest. The iciness outside seeped through the cement walls, and I immediately jerked ramrod straight.

"I'm cold," I told Ryder, who stood between me and the door, guarding it. The picture was almost comical. Did he think I was going to barrel past him? And go where-into the storm?

"Can you at least bring me my coat?" I persisted. I had my red scarf, which I'd worn all evening, but it wasn't enough against the chill. "I think I left it in the kitchen."

"Nice try."

"What do you think I'm 'trying'?" He didn't respond.

"It would be tragic if I ran off into the forest and got lost, wouldn't it?" I went on, feeling angry suddenly. "Then you'd have no one to help you off the mountain. Are you and Shaun in trouble? What did you do? Are you running from the police? That's it, isn't it?"

Ryder remained closemouthed.

"What happened at the 7-Eleven earlier?" I'd intended to sound tough and accusatory, but my voice broke on the last syllable, revealing my hurt. "If you're really a cold-hearted criminal, why did you help me?"

He glanced at me with cool detachment. At least he'd acknowledged me. It was halfway to a response.

"You played along," I continued. "You tricked my ex-boyfriend. You knew my name. Who was that guy?"

"Your name was printed on your T-shirt."

"I know that," I said tersely. "The point is, you took the time to read it and care. You were a different person. You helped me. And now you're holding me hostage. I want an explanation."

His face returned to impassive.

"Do you and Shaun really think you can pull this off? The storm will blow over, and people will be at the mountainside again. You won't be able to hold Korbie and me hostage and keep it a secret. People will see us all out there in the forest together-hikers and campers and park rangers. They'll want to talk, because that's what people do in the mountains. They're friendly and observant. They'll know something is wrong."

"Then keep us far away from those people."

"The deeper I take you into the forest, the greater the chance we'll get lost."

"Don't get lost."

"I know you're not like Shaun," I said, refusing to give up. "You didn't want to let us inside the cabin tonight. It's because you knew this would happen, didn't you? That Shaun would take us hostage. And you tried to prevent it."

"Even if that were the case, it didn't work."

"Do you really think Shaun will kill us? Why won't you tell me what's going on?"

"Why would I do that?" he said crossly. "I'm in this for myself. If you're worried about what's going to happen to you, start focusing on getting us off the mountain. Do that and we'll let you go."

"How do I know that?"

He merely looked at me.

"You're lying," I whispered, my voice suddenly hoarse. "You're not going to let us go."

The contours of his face tightened. I feared I had my answer.

A wild idea shot into my brain. It was risky, but if Korbie and I were going to die, I had to do something. Ryder and Shaun didn't need both of us to get them off the mountain-they only needed me. Shaun already believed Korbie was useless. She hadn't prepared for this trip the way I had, and it showed. I didn't think I could get us both out of this mess, but I had a shot at getting Korbie out safely. I just had to reaffirm in Shaun's mind that she was worthless and nonthreatening. And that he was better off leaving her behind.

I swallowed hard. I had never considered myself brave. I was the spoiled daddy's girl. If I went through with this, it meant leaving Korbie. I didn't know if I had the courage to hike into the forest alone with Shaun and Ryder.

But I didn't see any other choice.

"Korbie has type I diabetes," I said. "She has to take insulin. Without it, she'll go into a coma. If it lasts long enough, it's fatal." Once, at summer camp, Korbie and I convinced our camp counselor that Korbie had diabetes and wasn't feeling well enough to help out with the service project. While the rest of the girls picked up trash along the river, Korbie and I stole ice cream sandwiches from the kitchen and ate them in our cabin. If Shaun or Ryder quizzed Korbie about having diabetes, I was confident Korbie would remember our ruse, know I was planning something, and go along with it.

"You're lying."

"She takes Humalog and Lantus daily. She has to keep her blood sugar level as close to normal as possible." I knew about type I diabetes because my older brother, Ian, had it. If Ryder pressed for more information, I had an abundance of it. I could sell this story.

"Where's her medication?"

"In the car. It's frozen by now, which means it has to be thrown out. She isn't going to last long without insulin. This is serious, Ryder. You have to let her go. I can tell Shaun doesn't care if we live or die, but you don't want Korbie's death on your hands, do you?"

Ryder studied me closely. "You haven't been here that long. The medication might not be frozen. Tell me how to get to your car. I'll get the insulin."

"We've been here two hours. That insulin is frozen solid." Some thin gun decipherable flitted over his features. Before I could nail down the emotion, a shadow moved in the doorway, and I realized Shaun was standing there. I didn't know how much he'd heard, but his eyes appeared sharp and attentive. A ponderous frown tugged at his mouth.

"Insulin? That doesn't sound good," he said at last.

"I'll get it," Ryder told him. "And I'll grab their gear while I'm at it. I'll take Jade with me. She can show me the way."

My heart leaped at this sudden turn of events. If I went with Ryder, I could try to find Beck. He had to be looking for Korbie and me by now, searching the roads near Big Pines. How many wrong turns could I have made? One? We had to be close to Big Pines. Five miles away at most.

"No," said Shaun. "Jade stays here. I don't want to risk anything happening to her, since she's our ticket off this mountain. Jade, tell Mason where to go. No games. If he's not back in two and a half hours, I'm gonna have to assume you lied." His frown deepened. "Believe me, you don't want to lie to me."

I had to convince Shaun to let me go outside. "You won't know what you're looking for," I told Ryder. "Have you ever seen insulin or an insulin pen before?"

"I'll figure it out."

"I don't remember exactly where I packed them-"

"It's a car." Ryder cut me off. "It won't take long to search the whole thing. You drive an orange Wrangler, right?"

I flinched. "How do you know that?"

"The gas station," he replied brusquely. Before I could press, he continued, "How do I get to your car from here?"

"It would be easier if I went with you."

"No," Shaun repeated firmly.

Sweat dampened my skin. My chance was slipping away. If I didn't find Beck before we hiked into the forest, I would probably die out there. Just as worrisome, Shaun was going to figure out I'd lied about the insulin. The whole story was unraveling.

I could give Ryder the wrong directions to the Wrangler, but if I sent him wandering for hours, Shaun would know I'd tricked him. I didn't have any option but to tell him where the car was.

And devise a backup lie. When Ryder returned without the insulin, I would say that I must have forgotten to pack it. I would suddenly remember having left it on my kitchen counter at home. Maybe it was better this way. If they didn't think they had the medication to save Korbie, they'd be more likely to leave her behind. Especially if they believed she was going to die anyway. In fact, Shaun might think that he wouldn't be pinned for Korbie's murder if she died of natural causes.

"If you're facing the cabin, we approached from the left," I said. "Cut through the trees until you reach the main road. Follow it downhill to my car."

"I should be able to follow your footprints most of the way," Ryder said. "Snow's coming down hard, but I'll be able to tell where it's been disturbed."

After Ryder left, Shaun pointed a warning finger at me. "Stay here and don't make noise. I need to think."

He turned the storage room light off, but left the door cracked. I stood alone, willing myself not to cry. My breath came in short, erratic pants, and I bit down on my fist to muffle the sound. A far-off worry was beginning to creep into the back of my mind. What if I couldn't convince Shaun to leave Korbie behind? If he dragged her along, she'd never make it. Even if she could withstand the rigorous and dangerous hike to the highway, I feared her personality would push Shaun to lash out violently.

I blinked my eyes dry, sniffing until I felt composed. I had to be smart. My best tool now was my brain. I had to use this time to evaluate my situation.

I went over everything I knew about Ryder and Shaun. Shaun had a gun. That meant he was the ringleader. Or did it? Ryder didn't seem the lackey type. I didn't have a good read on their friendship. I felt a strained push and pull between them, an unwilling juggle of power. Most of the time MasonRyder let Shaun have his way. But not out of fear. I saw the way Ryder watched Shaun when Shaun wasn't looking at him.

The icy glint in his eyes ran deeper than contempt. Derision maybe. And I could be imagining it, but he seemed to calculate Shaun's every move, almost like he was hunting for weaknesses and storing the information to use later. But why?

Through the door, I caught glimpses of Shaun as he paced in front of the dying fire. He'd put on a black cowboy hat, a Stetson, tilting it to shade his eyes. Maybe it was a reach, but I couldn't help remembering that Tori Vega had supposedly disappeared from Jackson Hole with a cowboy wearing a black Stetson. The idea that Shaun could be that man caused a violent chill to shudder through me.

I watched Shaun march back and forth, chewing at a hangnail on the thumb of his left hand. His shoulders were hunched, his legs stiff, the muscles of his jaw clenched in concentration. He looked tightly wound.

Like he might snap at any moment.

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What will happen next? Lol

Find out soon and chapter 7 will be up right after this!

Read & review and let me know what you think!

-Heedragongillian

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	8. Chapter 8

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CHAPTER SEVEN

I'd drifted asleep.

Rolling slowly to my knees, I cringed at the soreness spiking along my shoulder, down through my hip. The cement floor provided no comfort or warmth. Wiping drool at the corner of my mouth, I shivered violently. The storage room door had been shut, leaving me in darkness. A frigid draft from the thin windowpane prickled my skin. Snow was still coming down, but not the big, swirling flakes of earlier; now tiny grains drilled into the window like hurled sand.

I didn't know how much time had passed, but the sky was full dark. I didn't hear Shaun pacing the den. I didn't hear Korbie's quiet sobs from the bathroom.

To keep my mind busy, and not focus on how scared I was, I mentally went over the cabin layout, what I'd seen of it anyway, and took stock of escape routes. The front door was the only exit I knew of to the outside, and it was at the opposite end of the cabin. I'd have to run down the hall and get Korbie, then backtrack through the den and down the entryway hall, all without Shaun hearing or seeing me. plus, I didn't know where Shaun had put our coats. We wouldn't last long in the storm without them. And even if we made it outside, where would we go? No one would be driving in these conditions there would be no one to help us.

I wondered if Shaun had gone outside to look for Ryder. Or maybe he'd fallen asleep. I wondered if I should take my chance and run now.

I was about to press my ear to the door and listen for Shaun, when it opened.

Shaun held a metal folding chair in one hand and a beer bottle in the other. He sank into the chair and stared at me, his face twisted into a scowl.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

He pointed his finger at me, his lips twitching in anger. "Don't you talk to me."

Any chill I'd felt vanished; immediately, sweat popped out on my skin. Shaun's mouth formed a downward seam, and those slotted eyes. They were glazed with hatred. He flung the door shut, and my heart started pounding so hard I was sure we'd both hear it.

He took a slug of beer and continued to glare at me. "Ryder's not back."

I hesitated, not sure he really wanted me to speak. "How long has it been?" I asked carefully.

"Over three hours. It's after one in the morning. Did you lie to me, Jade? Did you lie about where you left your car?"

"Maybe he got lost," I quickly offered. "Maybe the gear is heavy and it's slowing him down."

"He took a sled. The gear's not the problem."

"If you had let me go with him-"

Shaun was out of his chair so fast I didn't see him coming. His hand lashed out at my throat, propelling me backward. He shoved me against the wall. I was so startled, it took a few moments for the pain to sink in. As I scratched frantically at his hand, his knuckles dug harder into the soft underside of my jaw, cutting off my airway. The room blurred at the edges.

"You lied."

He eased up enough for me to gasp air. It wheezed down my throat. I shook my head no, no, no.

"If Ryder's lost, it's because you sent him the wrong way. He's out there looking for a car that's miles away. Isn't that right, Jade? Thought you'd level the playing field? Take him out so it's you and Korbie against me? Maybe you're stupider than I thought, pulling something like that."

I wrenched at his hands, trying to tear them off my neck. I couldn't breathe. I didn't know if he'd kill me. I was terrified he might.

"You took Ryder away from me, maybe I should take Korbie away from you."

My eyes widened with alarm.

"If we're playing games, I know a few." His face was close enough that I could make out the blue stones of his eyes. Rage burned at the back of them. "That's right, Jade. You played your hand, now it's my turn, isn't that how it works?"

He loosened his grip, and I choked down a breath. As soon as I swallowed air, he pushed my neck to the wall again. "Did you send Ryder in the wrong direction? If you did, I won't like it. But if you tell the truth right now, that's something we can work with. Nod if you understand."

Light-headed, I nodded.

"You're ready to start telling the truth?"

Yes, yes, I nodded. Pain raked inside my lungs. It felt like I had a cement block sitting on my chest.

Shaun's hand eased up, and I cried out in relief.

"Another half hour, give Ryder that, please," I begged. "It's still snowing. It's deep, and it will take him time to get to the car and back, plus he's dragging the gear. He's okay, he's just moving slower than we thought."

I waited to see if Shaun would fly into a rage.

The storage room door rattled in its frame, as though the pressure in the cabin had changed suddenly. Not a moment later, a blast of arctic air shot under the door. Immediately, Shaun and I both turned in that direction. The front door closed with a heavy slam, and footsteps carried across the wood floors of the den.

"Ace?" Shaun called out. "That you, buddy?"

The storage room door opened. Shaun's hand dropped innocently to his side, and I recoiled, pressing my back into the corner, wishing I could disappear through the wall.

Ryder patted the wall inside the door until he found the light switch.

"What's going on?"he asked, his gaze shifting between us. His face was ruddy from cold, beads of melted snow glistening on his hair and eyebrows. The shoulders and arms of his coat bore a thick dusting of snow.

"Just having a chat," Shaun said in the most ordinary voice. "Isn't that the case, Jade?"

I didn't answer. My breath came in choppy spurts. The air seemed to scrape my throat as I drew it in. Gingerly, I fingered my neck, my eyes filming at the bruises that burned under my skin.

I looked at Shaun, and a disturbing smile inched across his face. I nearly threw up. I felt the lingering steel of his hand vising my neck. When I shut my eyes, it only made his hate-filled eyes glow that much more vividly.

"You got the gear?" Shaun asked Ryder, his voice incongruously mild.

Panicky, irrational thoughts bombarded my mind. I had to get out. I had to run. Maybe I wouldn't freeze in the forest; maybe I'd survive. I'd risk it, to get away from Shaun. I would run and run, until I was safe.

"The gear looks decent? It'll work?" Shaun prompted Ryder.

Ryder didn't answer right away. I felt his gaze continue to press down on me. I wanted to burrow through the wall and run into the forest. The first chance I got, I had to take it, because I might not get a second one.

"What happened to her neck?" Ryder asked.

"I caught her tying her scarf around it like a noose," Shaun said with a chuckle, motioning at my red scarf on the ground. I'd taken it off before falling asleep. I'd rolled it into a ball and cuddled it against my chest for something comforting to hold. "Would you believe it? Another couple minutes alone, and she'd have killed herself. Gonna have to put this one on suicide watch."

I flinched when his cold hand patted my cheek. "No more tricky stuff, Jade. You might know these mountains better, but your friend is turning out to be the better house guest. Maybe I'll change my mind about you."

"Can I talk to Korbie?" My voice was a thin, hoarse whisper.

"What kind of question is that?"Shaun said irritably. "What do you think I'm going to say?"

"I want to make sure she's okay."

"She's okay."

"Can I please see her? I won't try anything, I promise." I had to tell her we were going to run. First chance we got. There was no saying what Shaun would do as the hours wore on.

"I don't know that," Shaun said. "You already tried to kill yourself. The only thing I know is that I can't trust you."

Ryder hadn't spoken in a long time, and I looked over to find him turning my scarf in his hands. His sharp brown eyes fixed on the fabric. Maybe I was imagining it, but his body seemed to draw taut and the set of his jaw appeared to harden. Did he believe Shaun? I wasn't sure. If the rift between him and Shaun widened, it might help Korbie and me. Maybe we could turn Ryder to our side. Maybe he'd help us escape.

Once again, I tried to untangle Shaun and Ryder's mystifying relationship. Shaun had lied to Ryder to cover up his own actions. It seemed like another clue. More proof that Shaun didn't hold all the power. Did he fear Ryder would retaliate if he hurt me? I knew nothing about him, definitely not enough to trust him, but I did know that I was less frightened of him than of Shaun. Whatever happened, I had to stay close to Ryder. If I was right about him, he wouldn't let Shaun hurt me again.

"We should inventory the gear," Ryder finally told Shaun. "Figure out what we need and what we can leave behind."

"You shouldn't have brought any gear we don't need," Shaun criticized.

"I was freezing and grabbed everything in a hurry," Ryder snapped. "Have you looked out the window? The snow is coming down hard. It took me twice as long to get there and back because of it. We can sort through the gear now."

Shaun grunted his compliance. "Fine. We've got time. We're not taking off until the snow stops."

As Mason followed Shaun out, he glanced over his shoulder, as if he'd had an afterthought. His eyes met mine briefly. "By the way, I found Korbie's insulin. It wasn't frozen. Looks like I got to it just in time."

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Hmmm… this chapter feels kinda short.

Should I post the next chapter?

Read and review and let me know!

-HeedragonGillian

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	9. Chapter 9

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CHAPTER EIGHT

Alone in the storage room, I stood frozen in place, my heart skipping erratically. Then I dragged my back down the wall and sat on the floor. This time, I didn't care about the cold bleeding through the concrete. My mind reeled. There wasn't any insulin. Because Korbie wasn't diabetic.

Ryder had to have figured that out. He'd found the gear, so he must have searched the Wrangler.

He'd lied about finding the insulin, but I couldn't figure out why.

I considered what Ryder was trying to tell me.

I reviewed his exact words, the tone of his voice, his body language. With one hand resting on the doorknob, he'd raised the issue of the insulin casually, but deliberately. As if he'd needed to ease my mind on the subject. Your secret is safe with me. For now.

I felt a sudden necessity to get Ryder alone. I had to find out why he was covering for me, what he wanted in return. I rubbed my forehead with the heel of my hand. I also had to prepare.

When the snow stopped, we were leaving. We'd strap our gear to our backs and I would lead us down a mountainside I'd never hiked. I pulled out Beck's map, careful not to tear it along the worn folds. Then I crouched by the ribbon of light at the bottom of the door. I studied the markings on the map carefully. off-trail hiking routes, caves, streams, abandoned huts once used by fur trappers-every place Beck had explored and carefully recorded.

I quickly located Big Pines and the highway-Beck had labeled both. The longer I studied the map, the more certain I became of our current position. Beck had marked a cabin to the south of one of the bigger lakes, far off the main road, and jotted the note "vacant/furnished/electricity." If the cabin was in fact our current location, I'd driven too far. I'd overshot Big Pines by approximately five miles.

I stopped. What if instead of leading Shaun and Mason to the highway, I tricked them into following me to Big Pines? But it was at a higher elevation, and they would be immediately suspicious if I led them uphill. For now, I would have to guide them downhill toward the highway. Away from Big Pines and farther from Beck.

Staring through the window, I told myself that when the snow stopped, and the clouds cleared, the stars would come out and the darkness wouldn't seem so encompassing or hopeless.

I traced my finger over the frosted glass. H-E-L-P. The letters streaked through the condensation before evaporating. I wondered where Beck was. I wanted to believe he'd found the Wrangler and was piecing together our next steps. I had to hope it was possible. But would he find us before we left? I closed my eyes and said a desperate prayer. Guide his steps, and quickly.

Beck knew the mountains better than anyone. And he was ingenious. He could outsmart Ryder and Shaun-if he found us. He'd gotten average grades in school, but only because he hadn't tried. Mostly to goad his dad, I knew. Beck had coasted through high school, doing the minimum required work, and the more Mr. Oliver tried to punish him, the more lax Beck became about school. Once, after a really bad report card, Mr. Oliver kicked Beck out of the house. Beck parked an RV in the driveway and lived in it, staying until Korbie convinced her dad to let him come home. When Beck scored a 31 on his ACT, followed by an astounding 2100 on the SAT, instead of being proud or relieved, Mr. Oliver was infuriated that Beck had proved him wrong-that he could get into a top-tier university like Stanford his own way.

A rumor had circulated in school last year, that Mr. Oliver had donated a substantial amount to Stanford and bought Beck's admittance, but Korbie swore it wasn't true. "My dad would never help Beck, especially not after the way he went about getting into Stanford," she told me privately.

I paced the tight quarters of the storage room, trying to battle the cold manifesting itself in hundreds of goose bumps springing up on my arms. At the far end of the room, I was about to turn and march back, when my eye landed on a large antique toolbox sitting on the lowest tier of the plastic shelving. I'd been so distracted and scared, I hadn't noticed it before. Maybe there was a weapon inside.

Careful not to be heard, I dragged the distressed toolbox, mottled with rust, out onto the concrete floor. I opened the latches and raised the lid.

Familiarity enveloped me like a cold, damp cloud.

My mind tried to make sense of the shapes inside the box. Long, pale shafts and a sphere with two large sockets below the curve of the brow, and a third hole, a nose, centered below them.

The limbs were bent at the joints to fit in the box. Hard, leathery skin and connective tissue held the largely decomposed body together.

Paralyzed, in a stupor, I gasped feebly. Logically, I knew that it-they-she, judging by the soiled black cocktail dress, couldn't hurt me. The body was a remnant of a departed life. It was more the knowledge that someone had died in the storage room that I found horrifying. Someone like me, trapped here. It was as if a window appeared in my brain and I looked through it to glimpse my own fate.

I squeezed my eyes shut. When I opened them, the dead body was still there. The skull's toothy grin seemed to jeer at me. You're next.

I shut the lid. I backed away. A scream stuck in my throat.

I could not tell Ryder or Shaun what I'd seen. They likely knew about the body. They had probably put it there. I didn't need another secret of theirs to keep. My life was already in the balance enough.

Pushing the image of the body deep down, I bit my quivering lip, and tried not to think about death.

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I've heard that when people are close to death, memories flash before their eyes. While I was waiting to see what fate Shaun and Ryder had in store for me, my mind brought up memories of Beck, who I desperately hoped was on his way to find us.

The first time I went camping with the Olivers, I was twelve years old and Beck was thirteen. It was July, and the mountains were a cool relief from the heat of town. Korbie and I were finally old enough to sleep outside alone, and Mr. Oliver helped us pitch a tent on the deep green lawn behind Big Pines. He promised to leave the kitchen door unlocked, in case we needed to use the bathroom in the middle of the night.

Korbie and I had tubes of lipstick and colorful tubs and pots of blush and eye shadow spread on the tent floor, and we were taking turns giving each other Katy Perry makeovers. When we finished, we were going to film our own music video of "Hot N Cold."Korbie had aspirations of fame, and couldn't wait to get started.

Korbie was applying Candy Apple Red to my mouth when we heard fake ghost noises coming from outside. A beam of light danced erratically through the tent fabric.

"Leave us alone, Beck!" Korbie yelled.

"Calm down," he said, unzipping the tent and crawling inside. "I'm dropping off the flashlight. Mom said you forgot it."

"Fine," Korbie said, yanking the flashlight out of his hands. "Now get out. Go play with Robbie Shapiro," she added in a mocking tone.

Beck bared his teeth at her like a dog.

"What's wrong with Robbie?" I asked. Korbie had invited me on the camping trip, and Beck had invited Robbie. I thought Beck and Robbie were friends.

"My dad made Beck bring Robbie," Korbie announced with smug superiority, "but Beck can't stand him."

"My dad likes Robbie because he's good at tennis and he's smart, and his parents are loaded," Beck explained to me. "He thinks Robbie will rub off on me. He won't even let me choose my own friends. I'm in junior high, and he's arranging playdates for me. It's stupid. He's stupid."

I looked worriedly at Korbie. "Did he make you invite me?" I couldn't stand the thought of Beck and Korbie snickering at me behind my back.

"He only does stuff like that to Beck," Korbie assured me.

"Because you're his princess," Beck said in a dark, loathsome voice. "He doesn't care what you do."

"Get out," Korbie snapped, leaning forward so her face was nose to nose with her brother's.

"Sure I will. But first, you guys know what tonight is, don't you?" Beck said.

"Friday," I answered.

His eyes glittered. "The thirteenth."

"Friday the thirteenth is a stupid superstition," Korbie said. "Get out before I start screaming. I'll tell mom you were trying to look at Jade's underwear. She'll ground you from video games all weekend."

Beck looked at me and I blushed. I was wearing my old underwear with holes under the elastic. If he did see them, I would die of embarrassment.

"Jade wouldn't rat on me, would you?" he asked me.

"I'm staying out of this," I muttered.

"If Friday the thirteenth is just superstition, how come hotels don't have a thirteenth floor?" Beck asked his sister.

"Hotels don't have a thirteenth floor?" Korbie and I echoed at the same time.

"Nope. Too unlucky. That's where the fires, suicides, murders, and kidnappings happened. Finally, people got smart and cut out the thirteenth floor."

"Really?" Korbie asked, wide-eyed.

"Not with a saw, stupid. They relabeled the thirteenth floor. They all became I2A. Anyway, there's a reason you should be scared of Friday the thirteenth. It's when ghosts rise from the grave and deliver messages to the living."

"What kinds of messages?" I asked, feeling the skin at the back of my neck crawl with delight.

"Even if we believe you, which we don't, why are you telling us this?" Korbie demanded.

Beck reached through the tent door and dragged a blue duffel inside. I could tell by the way the fabric strained that something with sharp angles was zipped inside it. "I think we should see if the ghosts have a message for us."

"I'm gonna tell Mom you're trying to scare us on purpose," Korbie said, glancing warily at the duffel before rising to her feet.

Beck grabbed the sleeve of her pj's and dragged her back down. "If you'd shut up for five seconds, I'd show you something cool. Really cool. Wanna see?"

"I do," I said. I glanced at Korbie and knew I'd said the wrong thing, but I didn't care. I wanted to keep Beck in the tent as long as possible. His skin was golden brown from spending days at the beach, and he'd grown almost as tall as his dad. Korbie told me he'd started doing push-ups and sit-ups over the summer, and it showed. He was way better looking than any of the boys in the fifth grade. He looked like a man.

Beck then pulled a wooden board from the duffel. The alphabet was printed in swirling black font on the face of the board. The numbers one through ten were printed below the alphabet. I knew right away it was a Ouija board. My dad wouldn't let me or Ian play with them. In Sunday School, my teacher told me the Ouija board had the power of the devil. A shudder tiptoed up my spine.

Beck pulled a small, triangular device with a window encased at the center from the duffel and set it on the board. "What is it?" Korbie asked.

"A Ouija board," I answered. I glanced at Beck, and he nodded his head approvingly.

"What does it do?"

"It uses mediums-spirits-to answer your questions," Beck said.

"Don't you have to hold hands when using the Ouija board?"

I asked, hoping the rumors I'd heard about the Ouija board were true, and that I'd look knowledgeable in front of Beck.

"Kinda," Beck said. "Two people place their fingers on the pointer. I guess there's a chance your fingertips could touch."

I scooted closer to him.

"I'm not touching your gross, sweaty hand," Korbie told him. "I'll start smelling like your jockstrap. I've seen you with your hand down your pants when you think no one's looking."

Korbie and I covered our mouths in a fit of giggles, but Beck simply said, "You guys are so immature. I can't wait until I can hold an actual conversation with you."

Me too, I thought dreamily.

"Ready?" Beck asked us, gazing earnestly into our faces. "There's only one rule. No pushing the pointer. You have to let it move on its own. You have to let the spirits guide it, because only they can see the future."

"Do you think there's a ghost in here?" Korbie stage-whispered, while muffing more giggles.

Beck shone the flashlight around the tent, into the corners. It wasn't a big tent, but he wanted us to see that we were completely alone. If the pointer moved, it would be by preternatural means alone. "Ask it anything," he told us. "Ask it about your future."

Will I marry Beck Oliver? I thought.

"If this really works, I'm gonna pee my pants," Korbie said.

I was a little scared of the Ouija board, and scared my dad would find out I'd played with it, so I was grateful when Beck said, "I'll go first." In a quiet, ceremonious voice, he asked the Ouija, "of the three of us, who is going to die first?"

I swallowed, staring nervously at the pointer. My heart felt tight in my chest, and I realized I'd stopped breathing. Korbie had been joking about wetting her pants, but I felt like I actually might.

At first the pointer didn't move. I met Korbie's eyes, and she shrugged. And then, slowly, the device began to glide toward the black letters.

B.

"I'm not pushing it, I swear," Korbie said, glancing anxiously at Beck.

"Quiet," Beck chided. "I never said you were."

E.

C.

.

"oh, gosh," Korbie said. "oh, gosh. oh, gosh!"

"What the hell?," I said, covering my eyes. But I couldn't stand the suspense, and splayed my fingers, peering through them.

"How does Beck die?" Korbie whispered at the board.

R-O-P.

"Rop?" I said, unsure if this was a real answer. "Does it mean 'rope'?"

Beck vigorously motioned me to be quiet. "who kills me?" he asked, his brow furrowing. D-A-D.

Something happened in the tent then. A muscle in Beck's jaw jumped, like he was clamping his teeth together real hard. He rocked back on his haunches, and his brows tugged together as he gazed almost hatefully at the Ouija board.

"Dad would never kill you," Korbie insisted softly. "It's just a game, Beck."

"Don't be so sure," he murmured at last. "He handpicks my friends and decides which sports I can play. He reviews every homework assignment and makes me redo most of them. He'll probably choose where I go to college and who I marry. Jade was right-the Ouija meant 'rope.' And dad's doing a great job of strangling me already."

It wasn't a pleasant memory, but I couldn't focus on anything good while I was trapped in the storage room with a dead body. The thought of Beck all those years ago reminded me to cut him some slack. He'd never had it easy growing up. He may have cheated on me, and hurt me when he'd ended things between us, but he wasn't a bad person.

And if he saved us, I promised myself I would forgive him for everything.

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Oh hell nah! Y'all shouldn't mess with that shit!

If you're hispanic you already know lol

Read and Review and let me know what you think!

-HeedragonGillian


	10. Chapter 10

Reviewssss:

Sayyouwontletgo: Yes you did! Lol :)

Dare to be something more: Well you certainly catch on fast lol, don't worry everything will slowly start to unravel and the truth will come out! And as for why the name mason is brought up, those are typos lol so don't think too much about it x)

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Chapter 10

It was a bleak, drizzly afternoon in March of my junior year, and the Wrangler was in the shop with a blown gasket. My brother, Ian, had promised to hang around after school-I had Drama Club-and give me a ride home. After ten minutes of waiting, I left a distress call on his voice mail. After thirty minutes, my messages turned hostile. After an hour, the janitor kicked me out and locked up for the night.

Within seconds, my hair was plastered over my ears and my dress clung to my figure. Rain dripped off my eyelashes. My lips felt stiff with cold, and to keep them from freezing, I muttered every swear word I could think of, in every possible combination. I was going to punch Ian. The minute I got home, I was going to shove my fist into his nose, and I didn't care if it got me grounded from Korbie's party the following weekend.

Halfway home I kicked off my Black velvet dr. martens and hurled them furiously into the gutter. Ruined. I hoped Ian had eighty dollars sitting around, because that's how much they were going to cost him.

I was about to jaywalk across the street, when a black truck honked and I jumped back onto the curb. Beck Oliver rolled down the passenger window and hollered, "Get in!"

I threw my books in the backseat of his extended cab and boosted myself inside. I felt rivulets of water running down my thighs and pooling in the leather seat. When I glanced down, I could see skin peeking through the lavender fabric of my dress. I couldn't remember what color underwear I'd put on that morning. A mortifying thought struck me. Had my underwear been showing through my dress the whole walk home? I folded my hands self-consciously in my lap.

If Beck noticed, he had the decency not to comment. He grinned. "I ever tell you the story about the girl who tried to take a shower outside?"

I punched him in the shoulder. "Shut up."

He reached into the backseat, groping blindly. "I bet I can scrounge up some soap in my gym bag. . . ."

I giggled. "You are the dumbest boy ever, Beck Oliver."

"Dumb but chivalrous. Where to?"

"Home, so I can strangle Ian with my bare hands."

"A no-show?" Beck guessed.

"With a death wish."

Beck cranked the heat. "You should have called me."

I looked at him, perplexed. Beck was my best friend's older brother, but aside from that, we didn't have a relationship. I'd dreamed for years that he would see me in a new light, but the truth was, calling Beck for a ride would have been the same as calling any other guy at school.

"I guess I didn't think of that," I said, bewildered by his offer. He turned on the radio. Not loud and blaring; a steady melody to chase away the silence. I don't remember what we talked about the rest of the ride. I stared through the window, thinking, I'm in Beck Oliver's truck. Without Korbie. Just the two of us. And he's hitting on me. I couldn't wait to tell someone. And then it dawned on me. For the first time, I couldn't run straight to Korbie. She didn't want me flirting with her brother. She would brush it off, telling me he was just being nice. But he wasn't. He was hitting on me, and it was the most flattering thing that had ever happened to me.

Beck pulled into my driveway. "We should do this more often," he told me as I climbed out.

I smiled back, unsure. "Yeah. That would be nice."

I was about to shut the door when he said, "Hey, you forgot this," and he offered me a folded scrap of paper.

It wasn't until he'd backed onto the street that I thought to open the paper. If I'd ever wondered what his handwriting looked like, now I knew.

Call me.

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A loud bang at the patrol cabin door jolted me fully alert.

Ryder was kneeling beside me in an instant, muffing my cry of surprise with his hand. He raised his finger to his lips, signaling me not to make another sound.

Shaun moved swiftly into the room, gun drawn, aiming it at the shadowy silhouette showing through the cafe curtain over the window in the front door.

Another, harder rap sounded. "Anybody home?" a man's voice called out.

I wanted to scream, Help! I'm here! oh, God, please help! The words were right there, exploding inside me.

"Answer it," Shaun ordered in a gruff whisper. "Tell him you're fine. Tell him you're waiting out the storm. Get him out of here. One false move, Jade, and you're dead, both of you are."He clicked off the gun's safety for emphasis, the sound echoing in my ears as loud as the toll of a bell.

I walked to the door, each step stiff and weighted. I wiped my hands on my thighs. My face was bathed in sweat. Shaun crept along the outer kitchen wall, keeping the gun trained on me. At my sideways glance, he nodded, but it wasn't a sign of encouragement. He was reminding me that he meant every word.

I unlocked the door and cracked it enough to see out. "Hello?" The man wore a brown parka and cowboy hat, and seemed startled at the sight of me. He collected himself and said, "I'm Deputy Game Warden Jay Philliber. What are you doing here, miss?"

"Waiting out the storm."

"This is a park ranger patrol cabin. You don't have permission to be here. How did you get in?"

"I-the door was unlocked."

"Unlocked?" He sounded doubtful and tried to peer behind me. "Everything okay in there?"

"Yes," I said in a dry, papery voice.

He shifted to see around me. "I need you to fully open the door." In my head, I could hear myself saying, They have a gun, they're going to kill me.

"Miss?"

A strange buzzing filled my ears. I was light-headed; his voice rolled through me like a slurred rumble, but I couldn't make out the words. I squinted at his mouth, trying to read them.

". . . get here?"

I licked my lips. "I'm waiting out the storm." Had I said that already? Out the corner of my eye, I saw Shaun wave the gun impatiently. It rattled my nerves further. I couldn't remember what I was supposed to say next.

". . . transportation?" the game warden asked.

I felt an overpowering urge to run. I pictured myself through the door, in the woods. I was so disoriented that for one moment, I thought I'd really done it.

"How did you get here?" he asked again, his eyes watching me carefully.

"I hiked."

"By yourself?"

Absurdly, I wondered if Beck was thinking about me right now. Had he slept last night? Had he found the Wrangler and set off into the forest, searching for Korbie and me? Was he worried about me? Of course he was. "Yes, by myself."

The game warden held up a grainy, enlarged black-and-white photograph. It was taken from a security video, and showed the inside of a Subway sandwich shop. There were two men in the photo. The cashier stood behind the counter, his palms raised to shoulder level. The man facing him, the man aiming the gun, was Shaun.

"Have you seen this man?"the game warden asked, tapping his finger against Shaun's blurry, two-dimensional profile.

"I-" Red lights popped behind my eyes. "No. He doesn't look familiar."

"Miss, you're not all right. I can see that plainly."He was taking off his hat. He was going to step inside. The hum in my ears rose to a deafening whine.

"I'm fine," I blurted. I looked around desperately. Shaun's eyes blazed into mine, hot with rage.

"Please stay outside," I said, panicking. I kneaded the heel of my hand into my forehead. I'd said the wrong thing.

The game warden brushed past me. At the same time, there was movement in the corner and Shaun was out in the open, gun drawn.

The game warden's face went white with fear.

"Kneel down." Shaun barked the order. "Hands on your head." The game warden obeyed, murmuring that Shaun should rethink, he was an officer of the law, they could talk this out, Shaun should hand over his weapon.

"Shut up," Shaun spat. "If you want to live, you'll do exactly as I say. How did you find us?"

The game warden tilted his head, giving Shaun a long, challenging look. At last he said, "I'm not out here alone, son. We've got the whole damn US Forest Service looking for you boys. Sure, we're slowed down by the storm, but so are you. And there's more of us. You aren't getting off this mountain. If you want to come out of this alive, you need to lower your weapon right now."

"Give me the gun, Shaun. Take Jade and start packing our things."

Ryder's icily calm voice cut through the tension like a whip. He stepped up to Shaun's shoulder and extended his hand expectantly.

"Stay out of this," Shaun growled, visibly tightening his grip on the gun. "If you want to make yourself useful, go to the window and figure out what he drove here in. I didn't hear a truck approach."

"Give me the gun," Ryder repeated, so softly his voice barely carried. Despite his quiet tone, it was laced with authority.

Clearly not wanting to give them the chance to plot secretly, the game warden spoke up. "You boys robbed a Subway sandwich shop and shot a police officer while trying to get away. You put a teenage girl in the hospital after you hit her and ran. You're lucky she's alive. You're lucky the officer you shot is also alive, but nobody in the criminal justice system is going to look kindly on it. Things aren't looking good for you, but they're gonna be a helluva lot worse if you don't lower your weapon immediately."

"I said shut up," Shaun barked.

"Who are you?" the game warden asked me. "How do you know these boys?"

"I'm Jade West," I said in a rush before Shaun could prevent me. "They're holding me hostage and forcing me to guide them to the highway." Finally! Law enforcement would know I was in trouble. They'd send a search party. Someone would tell my dad what had happened to me. I was so overcome with relief I nearly cried. And then my heart sank. This was possible only if the game warden got away. If Shaun didn't shoot him.

Shaun gave me a rake of his cold blue eyes. "You shouldn't have done that."

"If we tie him up, he won't be found for a day or two," Ryder reasoned with Shaun. "He'll live, but it will buy us time to get off the mountain."

"And if he escapes?"Shaun challenged, plowing a hand through his hair. His eyes were wide and wild, showing bloodshot whites around blue orbs. He squeezed his eyes shut, reopening them and blinking hard, like he was struggling to focus.

"Killing him isn't going to help," Ryder repeated in that same steely, authoritative tone.

Shaun squeezed the bridge of his nose. He wiped his free arm across his damp forehead. "You gotta stop ordering me around, Ace. I'm in charge. I make the decisions. I brought you along to do one job; stay focused on that."

"We've been working together for almost a year," said Ryder. "Think of everything I've done for you. I want what's best for you-for us. Now lower the gun. There's rope in the storage trunk on the back porch. If we tie him up, it buys us a day at least."

"We've already shot one cop. There's no turning back. We have to see this through, do whatever it takes."There was something irrational and frantic in the way Shaun's eyes darted back and forth, unfocused. After saying the words, he swallowed and nodded, like he was trying to convince himself this was his best option.

Ryder said more sternly, "We're going to leave him here and keep pushing toward the bottom of the mountain."

"Stop yelling at me, I can't think!" Shaun roared, rounding on Ryder and aiming the gun briefly at him before swerving back to point it at the game warden. More beads of sweat sprang onto Shaun's brow.

"No one's yelling," Ryder said quietly. "Lower the gun."

"This is my call," Shaun growled. "I'm calling the shots. And I say we cut loose ends."

A spark that was equal parts fear and understanding flared in Ryder's eyes. In one convulsive movement, he lunged for the gun. Shaun didn't appear to notice; his eyes were fixed on the game warden's kneeling form. Before Ryder was able to stop Shaun, a blast of noise exploded in my ears. The game warden's body sagged to the ground.

I was screaming. I heard the sound splitting my head, filling the room.

"How could you?" I cried. There was blood everywhere. I'd never seen so much blood. I turned away dizzily, afraid I'd pass out if I looked at it any longer. My whole body vibrated with shock. Shaun had shot him. Killed him. I had to get out. I couldn't worry about the storm-I had to run.

"What was that for?" Ryder's heated voice erupted at Shaun. Ryder looked shocked and sickened, and immediately crouched over the game warden's body, feeling his neck for a pulse. "He's dead."

"What was I supposed to do?" Shaun yelled back. "Jade didn't sell the story, and he was onto us. We did what we had to. We had to kill him."

"We?" Ryder repeated. "Are you hearing yourself? We didn't kill him. You killed him." His eyes burned with hot wrath and seemed to reflect his thoughts-I didn't sign up for this. He stared at Shaun with guarded, watchful disgust, and from that single searing look, I realized something. At one point, they had been two criminals with a common predicament and goal. Not anymore. As Shaun grew increasingly unstable and unpredictable, I felt Ryder peeling away. His desire to break from Shaun was written plainly on his face.

Shaun snatched the photograph of himself at the Subway shop and ripped it multiple times. He flung the pieces against the wall. Then he rifled through the game warden's pockets, taking out a small, curious-looking key and slipping it into his own coat pocket. "They're onto us. We have to keep moving," he said, suddenly speaking far more rationally, like shooting the game warden had released the tightly wound coil inside him. "They're gonna be crawling all over the mountain soon. Looks like he got here on a snowmobile. The wind is so loud, we somehow didn't hear the engine. He almost got us. But now we've got the snowmobile, and good thing-it will help us get over this damn snow faster. Grab one of his arms, Ace. We gotta hide the body."

"Give me the gun." Ryder held out his hand, his tone uncompromising.

Shaun shook his head. "Grab an arm. Hurry up. We gotta move."

"You're not thinking clearly anymore. Hand over the gun," Ryder repeated more forcefully.

"I just saved your butt. I'm thinking straight; you're the one who's letting the heat get to you. We gotta do what we gotta do. We never should've come to the outpost. We should've done what I said and kept walking toward the highway. From now on, I call the shots. Grab an arm."

Ryder glowered at him, but grabbed one of the game warden's limp arms. They dragged him out the front door, and before I knew what I was doing, I walked into the kitchen, took my coat off the back of the chair, and put it on. I opened the cupboard beneath the sink. My mind was in a fog, but the rest of my body acted with controlled deliberation, as if a switch had flipped and it had taken over. I ripped open the plastic bag and stuffed the pocketknife into my coat pocket.

I had to be ready to run. My chance was coming, I could feel it. I would find Beck in the forest. Even if I failed, I would rather freeze out there than stay here with Shaun.

When I straightened, Ryder and Shaun had rounded the outside corner of the cabin and were crossing in front of the window. At that moment, Ryder caught my eye. His gaze fell on my pocketed hand. He watched me for several thick beats, his sharp brown eyes assessing.

Ryder spoke to Shaun, and they set the body down. Right away, I knew Ryder was coming back. I walked to the far end of the kitchen, out of the view of the window, and fumbled the knife out of my pocket. I stuffed it the only safe place I could think of-down my pants.

Ryder crossed the threshold. "Take off your coat."

"What?"

He yanked on the zipper and wrenched the coat off himself. He searched through the pockets, both inside and out.

"What did you put in your pocket?"

"You're crazy," I stammered.

"I saw you hide something in your pocket."

"I'm cold. My hands are cold." If he felt them, he'd see it was the truth. My whole body felt frozen with fear.

He patted my arms, across the back of my torso, down my legs, and dug inside the elastic of my socks. "What are you hiding, Jade?"

"Nothing."

He glared down at me, his eyes shifting momentarily, suspiciously to my chest. My bra was one of only two places he hadn't checked. Immediately, he looked uncomfortable that he'd even had the thought, and averted his eyes.

"In the bathroom," he ordered. "Strip down and wrap a towel around yourself. You've got one minute. Then I'm coming in to search your clothes. Don't bother trying to stash anything in the vanity, the toilet, or down the drain-I'll search them too. I'll search the whole room."

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Hello sorry this one took some time lol

I went out for the weekend with some friends and I'm still recovering x)

Don't worry tho! I will post the next chapter in a bit :]

Please read and review and let me know what you think!

-Heedragongillian.


	11. Chapter 11

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CHAPTER 11

"I'm not hiding anything." My throat was dry with terror. If he searched me, he'd not only find the pocketknife; he'd discover Beck's map too. If they had the map, they wouldn't need me. They'd kill me.

"Damn weather!" Shaun cursed loudly, his voice carrying through the patrol cabin's open front door.

"It's snowing again. Get out here, Ace, and help me dump the body!"

More snow? I looked to the window to confirm it. Large, wet flakes flurried down. How was I going to escape if the weather worsened?

"I can't believe you're going to dump his body in the woods," I told Ryder. I said it in hopes of pricking his conscience, but also to shift his focus away from searching me. "Think of his family. He deserves better. What Shaun did was awful."

If Ryder planned on defending himself, he didn't get his chance. A gale of bitterly cold wind rushed into the cabin, slamming the front door back against the wall, jarring us out of the conversation.

With one final torn look between me and the snowflakes flying through the doorway, Ryder made his choice. He marched outside, banging the door closed behind him.

I went to the window. Shaun pointed at the game warden's body, then at the snowdrifts at the edge of the trees. They were going to shovel snow on the body and hope no one stumbled across it until they were out of the mountains.

I closed my eyes, calming the dizziness creeping in from the corners of my brain. I had the knife and the map. I would run. Tonight, while they slept. If I stayed with them to the highway, Shaun would kill me. I knew it as surely as I knew that snow was cold and fire was hot.

I would have one chance. If they caught me trying to escape, Shaun would either kill me on the spot, or let me live just long enough to wish he had.

I sat on the sofa, rocking back and forth, partly to keep warm and partly to steady my nerves. As cold and unfeeling as it was to do so, I had to push the game warden's death from my mind and rationally plan my next move. He was dead, I was alive. There was hope for me, but I could do nothing to change his fate.

I thought these words, but the image of his body pitching forward eclipsed everything. For the first time, I looked down through my splayed hands at my jeans. They were splattered with his blood. A dreamlike sensation floated inside me. It was like standing in the ocean's tide as it pushed and pulled; that strange, tipsy realization of being powerless against a much stronger force.

The cabin door slammed. Ryder and Shaun peeled off their wet coats, hanging them to dry on the backs of the kitchen chairs. The fingers of their gloves bore sleeves of ice from digging in the snow.

"What are you looking at?" Shaun sneered at me on his way to the fireplace. He shoved a log into the flames, sending angry sparks flying from the grate. "Maybe the snow isn't such a bad thing," he said to Ryder. "It will cover our tracks. It'll clog the main roads again, and it'll take time for them to plow. If we can't travel, they can't either. It buys us time. For now, we hang out here and wait for the snow to stop."

In the evening, Ryder heated three cans of corn on the stove. He and Shaun ate at the kitchen table and I sat by the fire, soaking up heat before I braved the forest alone tonight. I ate the food but hardly tasted it. I chewed slower and slower. I tried to shut out their voices in the background and lose myself in another memory of Beck, a new one, one I hadn't already played over and over in my mind to keep from going crazy here in this awful place.

Beck had hurt me, and I hadn't forgotten that he'd kissed Rachel behind my back, but during the trauma of the past twenty-four hours, I'd curiously forgiven him. I couldn't focus on the negative right now. I had to stay positive and hopeful, even if that meant clinging to the good memories and blocking everything else. I needed a beacon to fix my sights steadfastly on. Right now, that beacon was Beck. He was all I had.

When Ryder came to collect my bowl, I saw a shadow of sympathy in his eyes. I looked away, purposefully rejecting his compassion. I would not ease his conscience. I would not let him think any of this was okay. It made me feel better to treat him with frigid hostility. I wanted to hurt him more than I wanted to hurt Shaun. Despite his protests, he was the better of the two, and that made me expect more from him.

Icy snow pelted the ranger patrol cabin throughout the evening. Even though the fire had warmed the three small rooms, I stayed bundled in my coat, boots, gloves, and scarf. It would save time later, when I would have to run at a moment's notice. I also had the knife stowed in my pocket. I hoped I'd know when it was the right time to use it.

I figured that when Ryder and Shaun discovered I had escaped, they would expect me to head straight for Korbie, which ruled out going back for her. It wasn't an easy decision to come to, but if I wanted to keep us alive, I had to go for outside help. I wished there were some way to let Korbie know I was coming, that she just had to be patient. I could only imagine how isolated and terrified she must feel.

In the bathroom, I studied the map. I wouldn't have a compass tonight, not unless Shaun or Ryder left one of theirs out in the open where I could easily grab it, but Beck had detailed the map with enough landmarks that I could connect the dots to the ranger station, roughly six miles away. I could do this. I had to do this.

I rehearsed my plans, standing quietly by the window. It was only a surface calm. Deep down, I grew more and more frightened. How long could I last in the freezing woods without water, food, and shelter?

Shaun yawned loudly and closed himself in the bedroom, leaving me alone in the living room with Ryder.

"I found a pair of wool socks in the bedroom," Ryder told me, extending a pair of black Wigwam ski socks. "You might want to swap out the ones you're wearing so your feet stay dry."

"You found them-you take them," I said, snubbing him. "I thought I'd offer them to you."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I know how uncomfortable wet feet are."

"I don't want the socks." But my feet were damp and cold, and I would have given almost anything for fresh socks-almost. Just not myself-respect, in accepting a gift from the man who held me captive.

"Have it your way," he said with a shrug.

"If I had my way, I wouldn't be here with you."

"Take the sofa tonight," Ryder offered, ignoring my biting tone. He threw his blanket in the rocking chair, claiming it, and peeled off his fleece jacket, leaving on his fitted gray thermal shirt. Next he took off his belt, presumably so it wouldn't grind into his h*ps while he slept. It was a harmless action, but some how his undressing made the air in the room feel thicker.

Ryder rotated his arms in wide circles, releasing tension in his shoulders. I didn't want to watch him, in case it gave the wrong impression, but when he didn't seem to notice me, I continued to study him in quick, stolen glances. He was taller than Beck and more muscular. Not in a bulky, gym-rat way, but it was obvious he was athletic. His tight shirt revealed sculpted arms and a broad chest that tapered to a hard, flat stomach. It was difficult to recall what I'd first thought of him at the gas station, yesterday. Before I knew who he really was. That first meeting felt so very long ago. And I'd been so very wrong about him.

Finally, a more recent memory of Beck. It dropped into my head after I'd given up, and wasn't that the way it always happened? It was a good one. Our first trip to the Beach as a couple. I'd been stretched out on a towel on the shore, reading People magazine. Beck and his friends were taking turns racing jet skis around. I'd only finished one article when water, icy cold, dripped on my back.

I rolled over, startled, as Beck flung himself playfully onto my towel and pulled me close to cuddle.

He was soaking wet. I shrieked, trying halfheartedly to squirm away. The truth was, I loved that he'd left his friends to spend time with me.

"You didn't jet-ski very long," I pointed out.

"Long enough to keep the guys happy. Now I get to keep you happy."

I kissed him, slow and deliberate. "And how do you plan on doing that?"

He wiped a smudge of wet sand off my cheek with his thumb. We were propped on our elbows, facing each other, gazing into each other's eyes with an intensity that made my blood feel like it had been lit on fire. Just before he leaned in to kiss me back, the moment seemed to hold its breath, and I remembered thinking how perfect he was. How perfect we were.

I could have lived in that moment forever.

"Take first dibs on the bathroom," Ryder told me, transporting me back to the thick of the nightmare. I tried to block him out. My mind was desperately fishing for more of the memory. I wanted to replay that perfect moment over and over.

Ryder stopped stuffing his pillow into a laundered pillowcase and gave me a funny look, and I knew I hadn't erased the nostalgic, faraway expression from my face fast enough. He kept his emotions locked away, and I wanted to be equally self-controlled. But this time I'd slipped.

"You're thinking about him? The guy from 7-Eleven?"he asked gently.

I felt a flash of anger-not because he'd been perceptive enough to guess the truth, but because he'd brought up Beck. I was stuck in this awful place and the only thing keeping me from losing it was Beck, the memories of him and, yes, even the hopes, because as imperfect as our relationship had been, I still had hope for us. Things would be different this time. We knew each other better. We knew ourselves better.

We'd grown up during the last year, and our maturity would show. Until I was far from this place, and back with Beck, he was my secret life jacket, my sanctuary, the one thing Ryder and Shaun couldn't take. If I lost Beck, I lost everything. The nightmare would swallow me whole.

"I don't have to use the bathroom," I said curtly, again rejecting his kindness. I did have to pee, but thinking about my bladder would keep me awake through the night. The worst that could happen now would be to fall asleep and miss my chance. "And I'll take the rocking chair," I said coldly. "I slept fine in it earlier."

Ryder appeared doubtful. "It doesn't look comfortable. Really, you can have the sofa. I'll feel better if you do."He shot me a brief, disparaging smile. "This is your chance to make me bear my load of the pain."

"Why does my comfort suddenly matter to you?" I lashed out. "You're holding me here against my will. You're forcing me to hike in exhausting, frigid, dangerous conditions. Am I supposed to believe you're suddenly worried how I feel? Because this is how I feel: I hate it here. And I hate you. More than I've ever hated anyone!"

A spark of emotion flickered over his face before it turned stoic again.

"I'm keeping you here because there is a blizzard outside. You wouldn't make it on your own. You're safer here with me, even though you don't believe it."

I was seized with rage. "I don't believe it. That's exactly the kind of lie you want me to believe to keep me passive and obedient. You're keeping me here because you need me to get you off this mountain, end of story. I hate you, and I'll kill you if I get the chance. Would love to, in fact!" They were strong words, and I realized I'd probably never carry out their threat. Even if I got the opportunity, I didn't believe myself capable of killing another human, but I wanted to make myself perfectly clear. None of this was okay.

I was angry and frustrated, but the truth was, the more I spent time with Ryder, the harder it was to believe he was capable of killing another human. I'd seen the shock and horror on his face when Shaun brutally shot the game warden. And even though I'd originally suspected Ryder had been involved in the death of the girl whose body I'd found at the cabin, I was starting to think he didn't have anything to do with it. He might not even know about the body.

"Just please take the sofa," Ryder said one last time, his voice infuriatingly calm.

"Never," I breathed wrathfully. With a pointed look at him, I brushed his blanket onto the floor and sat in the rocking chair as grandly as if it were a throne. The curved bars dug into my back and the hard, wooden seat didn't have a cushion. I wouldn't be able to sleep twenty consecutive minutes.

Every time I shifted, I'd be jarred awake. Meanwhile, Ryder, who had to be exhausted, would sleep soundly on the sofa.

"Good night, Jade," Mason said uncertainly, clicking off the lamp.

I didn't respond. I didn't want him to think I was softening, or that I was letting him in. I wouldn't crack.

As long as he kept me here, I would hate him.

I woke up damp with sweat. For several disoriented seconds, I couldn't remember where I was. The walls flickered with shadows, and I turned to find the source-the fire, which had died down, but gave off heat. As I stretched my legs, the rocking chair creaked, and that's when I remembered how vital it was that I not make a sound.

Ryder stirred at the noise, but after a pause, his breathing resumed droning softly through the darkness. He lay sprawled on the sofa, his cheek pressed into the cushion, his mouth parted slightly, his too long legs and arms draping over the edges. He looked different with the firelight dancing on his face and a pillow hugged to his chest. He looked younger, boyish. Innocent.

His blanket had fallen off in the night, and as I walked silently past, I stepped over it, listening to the quiet rise and fall of his breathing. The air felt almost solid as I pushed my way toward the front door. Barely breaking stride, I greedily picked up a headlamp and canteen, which, to my great fortune, one of them had left on the kitchen bar. The canteen was full. An even better stroke of luck.

I put one foot in front of the other, eyes boring into the door handle, which seemed to slide out of reach with every step.

A heartbeat later, it was in my hand. My stomach somersaulted, part joy, part fear-there was no turning back now. I twisted the knob by the tiniest degrees. It reached the end of the rotation. All I had to do was pull. The pressure in the cabin would change slightly when I opened the door, but Ryder wouldn't notice. He was deep in slumber. And the fire would chase away the cold draft I let in.

Suddenly I was on the porch, inching the door shut behind me. I half expected to hear Ryder bolt to his feet and chase me, shouting for Shaun to wake up. But the only sound came from the bitterly cold wind striking snow, as fine as sand, at my face.

The woods were abysmally dark; I'd only made it one hundred paces from the patrol cabin when, in a single backward glance, I could no longer see it. The night enveloped it in velvety blackness.

The wind whipped through my clothes and lashed at any patches of skin I hadn't managed to cover, but I was almost grateful for it. I was wide awake from cold. And if Ryder and Shaun came looking for me, it would be impossible for them to hear my movements above the fierce whistle hissing down the slopes. Bolstered by this line of thinking, I wrapped my coat more tightly around me, shielded my eyes from the blowing precipitation, and picked my way carefully up the steep slope riddled with rock fragments and tree stumps that hid beneath the snow. The rocks were jagged enough, and hard enough, that if I fell at the right angle, I could break a bone.

An owl hooted overhead. The sound carried into the midnight-black woods, mingling with the howl of wind tearing through the branches and clacking them together with haunting effect. I tried to quicken my pace, but the snow was too deep, and I continually sank forward on my knees, nearly dropping the canteen and headlamp in my arms. As tempted as I was to switch on the headlamp, I didn't dare yet. Until I was a safe distance from the patrol cabin, it would act like a beacon for Ryder and Shaun to follow.

By the time I reached the summit, my climbing pace had lagged, and my breathing was labored. My legs trembled with exhaustion, and knots of stress seemed to ball like fists in my lower back. The anxiety of the past twenty-four hours had taken a toll-I'd never felt so sucked of energy, so small and powerless in the shadow of the treacherous mountains.

According to Beck's map, I needed to get over this pass and down into the basin, which I could follow to the park ranger station. But there was no clear path, and as I waded through the snow, it crept higher up my boots, making each step increasingly heavy.

An itchy warmth prickled along the inseams of my clothes and under my arms. I'd broken a sweat, a mistake. Later, when I rested, the sweat would cool and freeze against my skin, rapidly lowering my body temperature. I'd have to worry about it when it happened. The park ranger station was miles away. I had to keep moving. But to be safe, I slowed my pace further.

Compacting snow between my gloves, I made a slushy ball, and pushed it into my mouth, letting the icy mixture melt down my throat. It was painfully cold, but invigorating. If I was sweating, I needed to drink. It seemed impossible that I could dehydrate in such cold weather, but I trusted the guidebooks and my training.

A hazy beam of light bobbed spottily in the woods ahead. Instinctively, I dropped behind a tree. I ground my back into it, forming a frantic, rapid conclusion. The light originated behind me, not very far away. I strained my ears, listening. A man's voice, shouting. The wind distorted his words, but he was hollering my name.

"Jade!"

I couldn't tell if it was Ryder or Shaun, but I almost prayed it was Shaun. I stood a chance of escaping him. The forest was a vast maze; he'd never be able to track me.

"Jade! Not . . . hurt you. Stop . . . run!"

I wasn't above the tree line, but the dense woods sheltering the bottom of the mountain had thinned.

I didn't have the cover I needed, and though indeed it was indescribably dark, he had a flashlight. The minute I stepped into the open, he'd see me. I was trapped.

The light swerved away. With a moment to think, I decided to make a run for it. Breaking into the open, I lunged toward the next cluster of trees, using my free arm to propel myself faster. Far short of my target, I tripped, hands shooting out as I sprawled on the snow a split moment before the flashlight glided back, illuminating the darkness above my head. I army-crawled several more feet, dragging my supplies behind me and taking cover behind an outcropping of rock that jutted like an iceberg above the sea of snow.

I watched the beam from his flashlight scatter intermittent light through the branches ahead.

He was closer, moving up the mountainside far faster than I had. Squeezing the canteen and headlamp to my chest, I pushed to my feet and ran to another patch of trees.

". . . help each other!"

Help each other? I had the sickening urge to laugh. He thought I'd fall for that? He wanted off the mountain; as soon as I helped him, he'd kill me. I stood a better chance at survival facing the forest alone.

I set my provisions in the snow beside me. planting my gloved hands on my thighs, I leaned forward, giving my upper body a moment's rest. I was breathing so loudly, I was sure he'd hear it. Each gulp of air scraped painfully down my throat. I was so lightheaded, I feared I might pass out.

"Jade? It's Ryder."

Damn, damn, damn.

He called out to me in a reassuring voice, but I wasn't going to let it fool me. "I know you can hear me," he continued. "You can't be far. There's another storm coming; that's why the wind has picked up. You can't stay out here. You'll freeze to death."

I squeezed my eyes shut against the gusting snow. He's lying, he's lying. I shouted the words at myself, because I felt my resolve weakening. I was frightened and desperate and cold, and to my amazement, I actually wanted to believe him. I wanted to trust that he'd help me. That scared me most of all. Because deep down, I knew the minute I moved out from behind the tree, I was dead.

From my hideout, I watched him kneel a short distance away and observe how my tracks had disrupted the snow. Even if I tried to run, it was inevitable. He'd catch me now or in five minutes.

"Think about it, Jade," Ryder called. "You don't want to die out here. If you can hear me, call out my name."

Never, I thought at him.

I watched him pick up my trail and start jogging toward my hideout. I knew what was coming, but knowing my fate didn't dim the deeply embedded need to survive. I pushed to my feet and ran as hard as I could.

"Jade, stop!" he shouted.

"No!" I said, whirling around to face him. "Never." I bit off the word. I would not go back. I would fight.

I would die fighting rather than I let him drag me back.

He started to shine the flashlight on me, thought better, and instead of blinding me, asked, "Are you okay?"

"No."

"You're hurt?"There was evident alarm in his voice. "Just because I'm not hurt doesn't mean I'm okay."

He hiked uphill, approaching me cautiously. He circled me, scrutinizing me for injuries. His eyes fell on the ground, to my stolen provisions.

"You took a canteen and headlamp," he said, sounding almost impressed. Which made me feel a strange mix of pride and irritation. Of course I'd grabbed what I could. I wasn't helpless.

And then his voice turned serious, admonishing. "Three hours. That's how long you would have lasted out here on your own, Jade. Less, if this storm turns severe."

"I'm not going back."I sat in the snow, cementing my position. "You'd rather die out here?"

"You're going to kill me anyway."

"I'm not going to let Shaun kill you."

I snapped my chin up. "Why should I believe you? You're a criminal. You belong in prison. I hope the police catch you and send you away for life. You didn't stop Shaun from killing the game warden or shooting that cop. Or from killing that girl in the cabin," I went on, before I could stop myself. I hadn't meant to tell Ryder that I knew about the dead body, but it was too late for secrets now.

Ryder's brows pulled together. "What girl?"

His confusion seemed genuine, but he was a good liar. And damned if I was going to let him fool me again. "The storage room at the cabin, the one you forced me to stay in. There was a large toolbox with a dead body inside. You really expect me to believe you know nothing about it?"

A brittle pause.

"Did you tell Shaun about the body?" Ryder asked, his voice unnaturally cool and calm. But his whole body had gone rigid, tight as a knot.

"Why? Did you kill her?" Cold dread trickled into my veins.

"You didn't tell Shaun."

"And I don't know why I didn't!" I fired back, as nervous as I was distraught. Had Ryder killed her? I'd seen glimpses of a nicer guy, but maybe I'd been wrong. Maybe all along I'd let a few kind gestures distract me from seeing his true character. "You were never going to let me live, not from the first moment."

"I'm not going to kill you. And neither is Shaun-I won't let him."

"Really," I breathed wrathfully. "Do you hear how stupid and empty that promise sounds? Shaun has the gun. He's in control. You're-nothing more than his pathetic lackey!"

Instead of taking offense, Ryder watched me closely, as if trying to figure out my true frame of mind.

"Stand up," he said at last. "Your clothes are getting wet and your body temperature is going to drop."

"So? Let me die. I'm not going to help you off the mountain. I'm done helping you and Shaun. You can't force me to do it. I'm useless to you. Just let me go."

Ryder hoisted me to my feet, swatting snow off my clothes. "Where's the tough little girl from before? The girl who wanted to backpack the Range, damn the odds stacked against her?"

"I'm not her anymore. I want to go home," I said, my eyes filling with tears. I missed my dad and Ian. They must be so worried about me.

"Pull yourself together," Ryder instructed me. "You've been tested physically-now you have to be mentally tough. We're going back to the outpost. We're going to pretend like nothing happened. We won't tell Shaun. In the morning, you're going to get us off the mountain, and then we'll let you go."

I shook my head no.

"I'll carry you if I have to, but I'm not letting you die out here," Ryder said.

"Don't touch me."

He flipped his palms up. "Then start walking."

"You're really not going to let me go, are you?"

"Go where? Into the forest, during a blizzard, where you'll freeze to death? No."

"I hate you," I said miserably.

"Yeah, you said that. Let's go."

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The walk downhill to the ranger patrol cabin should have been far easier than the climb I'd just made, but each step felt heavier than the last. I had failed. Ryder promised to keep my secret, but what assurance did I have that Shaun wouldn't be pacing the floor with his gun when we made it back? I could be marching to my own slaughter.

I'd witnessed Ryder trying to stop Shaun from shooting the game warden-I was sure that was his intent when he lunged for the gun-and maybe he was a better person than I was giving him credit for. But it didn't matter where Ryder drew the line between right and wrong. Shaun had the gun.

And there was the girl's body back at the cabin. I didn't know who had killed her, but the way Ryder had reacted when I'd told him about it didn't sit well with me. He was keeping something from me, and from Shaun too, it seemed.

At last the patrol cabin appeared out of the darkness. I was almost to the front porch, when I found myself flying backward as Ryder yanked me toward him. His gloved hand clamped over my mouth, and for one wild moment, I thought he was trying to suffocate me. His breath panted in my ear, his body a stiff wall at my back.

The patrol cabin's front door was open, Beck's voice drifting through it.

My heart accelerated. Beck. Here. He'd found me!

"Where are they?" Beck demanded from out of sight.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Shaun answered sulkily.

Ryder scooped me up, immune to my kicking and thrashing, and hauled me silently to the top of the porch steps. we could view both men through the kitchen window. Beck must have surprised Shaun in his sleep, because he held him at gunpoint. I didn't recognize the gun. Beck must have brought it with him from Big Pines; I knew the Olivers kept guns at the cabin. Shaun's gun was nowhere in sight. To my dismay, a lamp had been turned on in the living room, making it impossible for Beck to see me on the other side of the kitchen window-it was far too dark outside by comparison. If he glanced this way, he'd only see the cabin's interior reflected in the windowpane.

I tried to scream his name, but Ryder's glove crushed my mouth ruthlessly. I kicked at his shins, my heel colliding with bone before he shoved me against the outer wall with shocking force. I'd sorely underestimated his strength, and found myself outmatched; his free hand captured both my wrists, and he dug his knee into the flesh at the back of my leg, until I couldn't stand the pain any longer and went limp. He took advantage of this unguarded moment to grind his body viciously against mine, trapping me between him and the cabin. My cheek was shoved up against the icy shutter, and I strained to see Beck through the window.

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Will Beck save Jade? What will happen with Ryder?

Oooohhh it's getting real lol

Read and Review and let me know what you think!

-HeedragonGillian


	12. Chapter 12

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CHAPTER 12

"There are three bowls in the sink, three glasses on the counter!" Beck growled. "I know Korbie and Jade were here with you." He strode to the sink, hastily inspecting the bowls with a swipe of his finger. "The food's moist. They were here recently. Where are they now?"

"Maybe I used all three bowls," came Shaun's surly reply. Beck hurled a glass at Shaun's head. He ducked, and the glass shattered against the wall behind him. When he faced Beck again, he'd blanched slightly.

"Did you kill them?"Beck's stride didn't break as he marched up to Shaun, aiming the gun at point-blank range. His voice shook with rage, but his gun hand remained steady. "Did you?"

Shaun fidgeted with his hands uneasily. "I'm not a killer," he answered, in a tone far too guileless to be believable.

"No?" Beck said in a soft, deadly voice. "I know you. I've seen you around. At Silver Dollar Cowboy Bar. You like to get girls really drunk and take their picture like some pervert."

I watched the play of emotion on Shaun's face. His artless act drained from it, replaced with fear. "I don't know what you saw, it wasn't me, I don't take pictures of girls, I don't even own a camera, I'm never up here in the mountains. . . ."

"What kind of perverted things do you do with the pictures?" Beck demanded. "I saw you with that girl, the socialite who went missing. Maybe I should tell the cops."

"You've got the wrong guy," Shaun stammered.

"Where's my sister? Where's Jade? Start talking or I will tell the cops!" Beck was yelling now. "Did you take pictures of them? Did you think you could blackmail my family? Or post the pictures online to harass my sister? Or sell them?"

Shaun visibly swallowed. "No."

"I'm not going to ask again-where are the girls?"

"You have to believe me, we never meant no harm. We took them in 'cause they were stranded and we couldn't let them freeze with the storm blowing in-"

"We?"

"Me and my buddy, Ace. He was here when I went to sleep; he must have run off with her. It's him you want-"

"'Her'? Who's 'her'?"

"Jade. He took Jade. She was here with us. I think he had a thing for her, but I never touched her, I can swear on my mother's grave to that. Check the woods. Maybe he dragged her out, wanted some privacy. Go take a look."

"What about Korbie? Where's she?"

"Ace made me leave her at the cabin, before we hiked here. He said we didn't have enough supplies for both girls. I left her food and water, even though Ace told me not to. I made sure she'd be safe."

"You left my sister alone in a cabin?"Beck demanded. "Which cabin?"

"A few miles from here. Sits far back from the road. Blue curtains in the windows. Lawn has turned to weeds. Nobody's been up for years."

"I know the one. The snowmobile out front-where's the key?" Shaun didn't answer right away, clearly reluctant to give up his recent windfall. "Don't know. It was parked out front when we arrived. It's not ours," he said. "Looks like its rider ran out of gas and left it here. Doubt it's worth the trouble of trying to hot-wire."

Beck leveled the gun at him. "Don't lie to me. Give me the key. Now."

"You wouldn't shoot me. They'd figure out it was you. Nobody's up in the mountains, not with this storm. Only you, me, Ace, and the girls."

"Don't worry, I won't leave anything for them to find." Beck fired.

The staccato bursts pierced my ears, startling me. Behind me, Ryder's body jerked forcefully-he was just as shocked. I had watched Shaun kill the game warden, I had watched pieces of human tissue spray the walls, but that had not prepared me for watching Beck kill in cold blood.

It couldn't be happening. My mind groped through the madness, trying to find some way to justify Beck's violence. Why hadn't he tied Shaun up and turned him over to the authorities? That he'd kill Shaun without any real evidence of Shaun's having hurt Korbie and me was unthinkable. Was he so worried about us he wasn't thinking clearly?

I had to get to Beck. I had to reassure him I was alive, and calm him down. Together we could leave this horrible place.

More determinedly, I thrashed against Ryder's hold. His fingers dug into my skin, but any pain floated just outside my awareness. The only thought pounding clearly in my mind was of reaching Beck. I'm here! I screamed wildly at him in my mind. I'm right outside!

Inside, Beck kicked Shaun's lifeless form, making sure he was dead. He searched his pockets. Calmly, he took the cash from Shaun's wallet, and the snowmobile key. His strode into the bedroom where Shaun had slept, reappearing a moment later with Shaun's gun, which he tucked into his belt. In a hurried exploration of the kitchen drawers, he found a Zippo lighter.

At first I didn't understand why he lit the living room curtains on fire. And then it came to me. Shaun had been right. The police would suspect Beck of killing him. They might even suspect Beck of the game warden's murder. He had to destroy the evidence.

Thick black smoke poured off the sofa, which Beck had lit on fire next, and bright flames surged up the walls. I could not believe how quickly the fire caught. It rushed from one piece of furniture to the next, heavier smoke billowing to fill the room.

As Beck strode toward the front door, Ryder wrestled me into a dark corner of the porch. From our hiding spot, I heard Beck's boots clap against the porch steps as he trotted down them.

He was leaving. Without me.

I wrenched from side to side, desperately trying to fight my way free, but Ryder was too strong; his grip was steel. I couldn't run. I couldn't yell. My muffled screams were too low to be heard over the wind and crackle of the fire. Beck was leaving. I had to stop him. I couldn't bear to stay with Ryder another minute.

The snowmobile started with a rumble. In a matter of seconds, the drone of the engine faded into the distance.

Ryder let go. I collapsed against the porch railing. I could feel my heart breaking, splintering into irreparable fragments. Pressing my face into my folded arms, I made a deep sound of agony. Tears streamed down my face. The nightmare was dragging me back, to a depth I had not known existed.

"Stay here," Ryder said urgently. "I'm going in for our gear." Pulling his coat up to protect his head, he darted through the open door. I could have run. At that moment, I could have raced for the trees. But I knew he would track me. And he had the gear. He was right: I wouldn't last long on my own.

Slowly, I backed my way down the porch steps, too much in shock that Beck had left without me to be fully aware of the fire. In a haze, I watched the bright flames lick across the floor and sparks rain from the ceiling. The crackle and hiss of the fire had grown to a roar. Through the smoke, I caught fleeting glimpses of Ryder thrusting whatever he could into our packs. Even from this distance, heat blasted through the doorway, drenching my face in sweat. Ryder had to be sweltering.

At last he staggered through the door, coughing violently, two packs slung over his shoulders. His face was coated in black soot, and when he blinked, it made the whites of his eyes stand out. My expression must have hinted at this monstrous sight; he wiped his coat sleeve across his face, smearing most of the soot away.

Heavy snow swirled down between us, freckling the grime clinging to his cheeks.

"The storm is hitting full force," he told me. "We need to find shelter before it's too late."

Ryder was right. Wet, heavy snow was driving down the face of the mountain. Since the ground was already covered from the earlier storms, the snow accumulated quickly. I watched it creep up the tree trunks and sag their branches. No one was getting up the mountain now. Not the police, not my dad. We were on our own. And I could think of nothing more terrifying.

We had to get out of the weather. I knew of no nearby cabins, which left finding a fallen tree or a cave for shelter. As we slogged on, Ryder took off his fleece cap and handed it to me. I'd grown suspicious and resentful of his small gestures of kindness over the past day and a half, but this time I took the hat gratefully. My socks were damp from earlier, and my teeth were beginning to clatter. I was willing to risk my pride for whatever warmth I could salvage.

"Thank you," I told him.

He nodded, his lips a bloodless blue. His cropped hair glistened with snow. I knew I should give him the hat back, but I was freezing too. So I looked away and pretended not to see.

The smart thing would have been to consult Beck's map. It would show the closest shelter. But I didn't know how to look at the map without letting Ryder see it too. If he knew about the map, he wouldn't need me. He could take the map and then it would be every man for himself. plus, if the map got wet, the ink would probably bleed. Worse, the paper might tear or disintegrate.

We hiked for a long time, each step slow and cautious, making sure there wasn't any debris hiding beneath the snow before we put our full weight down. The storm clouds blotted out the moon, making it darker than ever, even with flashlights. My toesnumb with cold. Even when I clamped my jaw shut, I could not stop my teeth from chattering. I squinted against the arctic blasts of wind, focusing on Ryder's boots ahead. Every time he took a step, I forced myself to do likewise. His height and broad shoulders blocked the worst of the wind, but it found me, penetrating my coat and licking ice over my skin. Soon, my brain shut down and I put my energy into simply moving forward.

And then my thoughts went where they always did. To Beck.

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"I'm coming out," Korbie announced from behind the dressing room door at JCPenney. I heard the swish of silky fabric as she shuffled over to slide the bolt free. "Don't lie, because I'll know right away if you are."

I sat on the bench in the dressing room directly across the hallway, my door wide open. Hurrying to finish my text, I hit send and dropped my phone sneakily into my purse. As I did, I felt a squeeze of guilt. I didn't like hiding things from Korbie. "I'm offended you think I'd lie," I said-but not without a pang of conscience.

Korbie stepped out in a violet corseted gown that fluttered around her ankles as she completed a Disney-princess twirl. "Well? What do you think?"

"It's purple."

"So?"

"You told me Bear hates purple."

She made an exasperated gesture. "That's why I'm wearing it. To help him change his mind. If he sees how great I look in purple, he'll realize he loves it."

"Are you going to make him wear a matching purple bow tie?"

"Um, yes," Korbie said, rolling her eyes at the stupidity of the question. "It's prom. We have to coordinate. Our picture might end up in the yearbook."

"Yearbook photos are black and white."

"You're not making this very fun. At least try one dress on," Korbie begged, pulling on my hands in an effort to get me off my butt. "Last year we went prom dress shopping together and both of us participated. I want this year to be like last year. What is wrong with the boys at our school? I can't believe one of them hasn't asked you yet."

I didn't tell Korbie that Brett Fischer had asked me to prom and I'd turned him down. I was off the market, unofficially dating someone. I didn't know how much longer I could keep the secret, because that's what it was, a secret that I'd sworn to keep before I realized this particular secret would burn a hole in my chest.

My cell phone chimed in my purse.

"Who's texting you?" Korbie wanted to know.

"Probably my dad," I said, feigning boredom with a flick of my ponytail.

A scandalized smile spread across Korbie's face. "Do you have a secret lover, Jade, darling?" she teased.

"Yes," I deadpanned, but I ducked my head so she wouldn't see me blush.

"Well, I hope you find a date soon," she said seriously, "because I won't have any fun at prom if I know you're at home watching a movie, eating ice cream and getting fat. oh, I know! What about that guy who always talks to you on the way out of math class?"

"Um, Mr. Bagshawe?"

Korbie snapped her fingers, whipping her arm from hip to hip like a backup dancer in a music video. "That's the one. An older, illicit lover. That's how my girl Jade rolls."

"Next dress, please," I said.

When she disappeared behind her dressing room door, I grabbed my cell phone. Beck's text was waiting.

Can I see you tonight?

Whaddya have in mind? I texted back.

Sneak out around eleven. Bring your swimsuit. I'll be the guy in the hot tub with drinks.

The Olivers had a backyard pool and hot tub, and as much as I wanted to be with Beck tonight, I was tired of the extra work that went into these secretive, late-night meet-ups.

Beck had told me that Korbie couldn't find out about us yet-no one could. He'd convinced me that keeping our relationship secret made it exciting. I wanted to tell him I was seventeen now, above secrets and games. But I worried he'd take it the wrong way. He was almost nineteen, after all. Who was I to give him relationship advice?

"I can hear you texting," Korbie singsonged through the dressing room door. I heard a zipper snag as she tried on another dress.

"You're supposed to be giving me your undivided attention. Ugh! Why don't we have a real department store? I love how we have a ten-to-one McDonald's-to-people ratio but no Macy's. I'm going to have to order a dress online."

It was hard to think about prom when I knew I wasn't going. I wanted to go, but Beck wasn't ready to take our romance public.

Instead of focusing on the depressing realization that I wasn't going to prom, and wouldn't be doing any of the fun, girly things that went along with it, I forced myself to think positively. I was dating Beck Oliver. The love of my life. In the big scheme of things, what was one silly school dance?

It had been hours since Beck kissed me good-bye after school, when we'd slipped into an empty classroom and made out until we heard the janitor pushing his cart down the hall. I bit my lip to suppress a smile. Beck and I had known each other our whole lives. Hardly a day had passed that I hadn't seen him. He used to yank my ponytail and call me Jade the Brat. Now he ran his finger affectionately down my cheek when we talked, and he kissed me in stolen moments and forbidden encounters.

I had to admit, it was kind of exciting.

Sometimes.

And then there were the other times.

Like last week when Beck's best friend, Andre Harris, caught us making out behind the baseball diamonds, long after the team had finished practice. I'd had my back pressed to the driver's-side door of Beck's truck, and he was leaning in to me, leaving zero space between our bodies.

Andre gave us the standard "Get a room," because he wasn't very creative. He ran track with Beck and was great at hurdles. Not so great with everything else.

"Been there, done that," Beck told him, winking at me conspiratorially. I knew Beck wouldn't like it if I disputed this in front of his best friend, but we had not slept together.

Andre's eyes gave me a full-body rake. The way he grinned at me made me feel slimy. "Thought you didn't have a girlfriend, Oliver."

Actually, he does, I wanted to say. I knew we'd agreed to keep our relationship quiet for now, but wasn't this the perfect opportunity to finally be open about it? Why did Beck feel the need to lie to his best friend? Why was he asking me to lie to my best friend? Beck had a reputation as a player who couldn't commit, and he'd never had a serious girlfriend, but this was different. I was different.

He cared about me.

I was certain of it. I only wished I didn't sound like I was trying hard to convince myself.

"I don't," Beck said.

They laughed, slugged each other affably, then exchanged a tricky handshake.

"Dude, your hair is sticking up everywhere," Andre said.

Andre was right. I'd been mussing Beck's thick brown hair, and the tips were pointing to the sky.

I thought Beck would laugh it off, but he bent to look in the side mirror and said, "Damn, Jade, I have dinner with my parents after this." He tried ineffectively to smooth his hair down.

"So? You're going to shower before dinner, aren't you?" I said, growing tired of sitting quiet while Beck and Andre made me feel invisible.

"You sound like my dad, always telling me what I should be doing next," he complained. "Stick to kissing, will you? It's what you're good at." Andre snorted his amusement and sauntered off.

When Beck and I were alone again, I said accusingly, "Why did you let your stupid friend think we've had sex?"

"Because, babe," he said, slinging his arm over my shoulder, "any day now we will."

"Oh, yeah? That's funny, last time i checked that was up to me."

He laughed , but I wasn't joking. I really did want to hear his answer.

"Tell Mr. Bagshawe he should cut me some slack on our next unit test if he doesn't want me to dish on your secret fornication," Korbie snickered, pulling me out of the memory.

When I didn't answer, she added, "You're not offended, are you? You know I'm only kidding. I know you're not with Mr. Bagshawe. You'd never go out with a guy and not tell me."

Well, that did it. I made up my mind. No swimming tonight, I texted Beck, hoping he didn't assume I was having my period. We'd been together for weeks, and I knew him in a way I'd never known another guy, but we weren't to the point where I wanted him bringing me ibuprofen and a heating pad for my cramps.

When am I gonna see you in a bikini? he texted back. One with strings I can undo . . .

When you come clean about us, I texted. My thumb hovered over the send button.

In the end, I deleted the text. I wasn't going to manipulate my boyfriend. I was seventeen now, above games.

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Can't we all relate to Jade at the end x)

"I'm seventeen now, above games" lol Yupp that was me thinking i had all figured out xD

Oh well lol read and review and let me know what you think!

-HeedragonGillian


	13. Chapter 13

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CHAPTER 13

I did not know how long Ryder walked with his arm under my shoulders, propping me up, urging me forward. As we plodded heavily downhill, looking for any refuge from the weather, I shook myself awake, realizing I must have been falling in and out of sleep for some time. Under other circumstances I would have recoiled from Ryder, the idea of touching him repellent, but I was too exhausted to care.

He spoke in my ear. I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was excited. I lifted my drooping eyelids, taking in the endless, swirling white landscape. He pointed toward something ahead. When I saw it too, my heart surged with joy.

We hobbled over to the fallen tree with its intricate network of roots now exposed aboveground.

Clumps of frozen mud filled in the gaps, and the effect was something of a cave, a secret hideaway from the weather. Ryder helped me crawl under the canopy of gnarled, twisted roots, then came in after me. Protected from the snow and wind, I felt the weight of hopelessness roll off my chest. The tree smelled of dirt and decay, but the place was dry. And compared to the buffeting winds outside, almost balmy.

Ryder pulled off his gloves to blow on his hands and rub them briskly together. "How are your feet?"

"Wet." It was the lengthiest response I could manage. My teeth hurt from knocking together, and my lips had hardened into painful strips of ice.

He frowned. "I'm worried you could have frostbite. You should have-" He caught himself in mid-sentence, but I knew what he had meant to say. I should have taken the dry wool socks he'd offered when I'd had the chance.

I'd lost feeling in my feet. Even the uncomfortable tingling had gone away. It was hard to muster up concern over frostbite when I couldn't feel pain . . . and when I was so bone-weary that my brain couldn't grasp a single thought.

"Here, drink some water before you fall asleep," Ryder instructed, passing me a canteen.

I took a few sips, but my eyelids were already drifting downward. In that half-conscious moment, I felt my dad and Ian praying for me. They knew I was in trouble, and they were on their knees, asking God to strengthen me. A calm warmth spread through me and I exhaled softly.

Don't give up on me, I thought across the vast distance that separated us.

It was my last groggy thought before falling asleep.

When I woke, milky light streamed through the twisted mesh of roots above. Morning sunlight. I'd slept for hours. I felt Ryder stir beside me, and realized with a start that I'd slept curled against his body. I scooted backward, and immediately regretted it as cold air swarmed to fill the void where our bodies had touched.

"You awake?" he asked, his voice husky with sleep.

I sat up, my head brushing the roots. It was then that I noticed Ryder had spread waterproof ground mats beneath us and covered us with blankets and the sleeping bag. I was also surprised to find Ryder's boots on my feet. They were large, but he'd tied the laces tight, and my toes felt toasty warm. His own feet were covered in a thick, woolly pair of high-quality hiking socks, but I doubted even they were keeping out the biting air.

"Your socks were soaked through," he explained.

"You didn't have to give me your boots," I said, feeling very grateful he had.

"I hung your boots and socks to dry." He pointed to the drying rack he'd jury-rigged from one of the lower protected roots. "But until we get a fire started, they're going to do more hanging than drying."

"Fire," I said slowly, savoring the word. Delicious longing crept through me at the thought of real heat.

"It's not snowing right now. Good time to find wood."He reached across me and started unlacing his boots from my feet. of course he would need his boots if he was going out to collect firewood, but the easy, familiar way that he touched me took me off guard. The only boy who'd ever touched me so intimately was Beck.

Ryder slipped the boots off my heels and put them onto his own feet. Somewhat shyly, I gave him back his fleece hat.

"How much snow did we get?" I asked.

"Several inches. Any roads up the mountain that were open are definitely closed now. We're on our own for a couple more days, until they can plow. Don't worry," he said, looking at me suddenly as if realizing this news might alarm me. "As long as we keep our heads, we'll be fine. I've survived worse."

I felt strangely reassured by his company. But I couldn't help wondering if Ryder's confidence stemmed from knowing that the roads were clogged and the police couldn't come after him. He had time to plan his next move. This seemed to boost his spirits, but made mine shred further. No one was coming to rescue me. I knew Beck wouldn't stop looking for me-he'd find Korbie and come back for me as soon as he could-but I couldn't count on him. I couldn't count on my dad. I couldn't rely on the police. One by one, I felt rocks begin to drop on my chest.

"You're not going far, are you?" I asked Ryder as he crawled out of our hideaway.

He studied me curiously for a moment; then a look of amusement flickered in his eyes. "Worried I won't come back?"

"No, it's just . . ."

Yes, that summed it up.

Oddly, only hours before, I had tried to run away from him. I hadn't trusted him then, and I wasn't sure I could trust him now. He still needed me to help him off the mountain, which was probably the only reason I was alive. Or was it? Did I really think Ryder could-would-kill me? If he'd killed the girl whose body I'd found at the cabin, then he was capable of killing again. But I wasn't sure who to pin her death on. And I wasn't about to ask Ryder again-it wasn't in my best interest to provoke him.

"I'm going to dig for dry twigs around the base of the trees," Ryder said. "I should be back in a half hour."

"See if you can find pine pitch, too," I said.

"Pine pitch?"

"Sap. It's sticky but easy to pull off, and it burns like gasoline when ignited." Beck had taught me the trick years ago.

A little smile of approval rose in Ryder's eyes. Just for a moment, it seemed to soften his serious, closed-off expression. "Pine pitch it is."

I slept until Ryder returned. I heard him crawl under the awning of roots, and even though I was stiff with cold, I scooted over to watch him light the fire. I didn't want to be a nuisance or a show-off, but maybe I could offer him a few other pointers. I hadn't expected to put my training to use in such dire circumstances, but I was suddenly immensely grateful I'd mastered at least some basic survival skills.

Ryder set four smaller logs side by side, forming a platform. He wiped the sticky globs of pine pitch onto the platform, pausing only to wink at me. Then he used twigs to construct a ventilated tepee. This took time, and so did getting the twigs to ignite with the fire starter. Finally, a spark took and the twigs began to smoke, then burn.

"We'll be warm soon," he promised. warm. I'd almost forgotten the feeling.

"Why are you helping me, Ryder?" I asked him.

He shifted uneasily, then settled into thoughtful silence. At last he said, "I know you don't believe me, but I never meant to hurt you. I want to help you. I wanted to help you from the beginning, but things got-out of hand." he said remotely.

"Were you scared of Shaun? Scared of going against him?" I'd thought Shaun was scared of Ryder, but maybe I'd gotten it wrong.

Ryder didn't answer.

"I'm not sorry he's dead, but I am sorry you lost him. I'm sorry you had to see him die."

Ryder gave a bitter laugh, wagging his head between his knees. "Me too," he said heavily. "You have no idea."

"I didn't think he would die like-that," I added quietly, still unnerved by Beck's heedless decision to kill Shaun.

"Forget about Shaun," Ryder said, his eyes momentarily darkening with regret. He blinked, seemingly clearing away any lingering reluctance to accept that Shaun was really gone. "Just you and me from now on. A team, right?" He extended his hand.

I eyed it, but didn't clasp it. "Why should I trust you?"

"This feels like a job interview. 'Why should I hire you?' 'Why are you the best person for the job?'"

"I'm serious."

A shrug. "I'm all you've got."

"That's not a reason to trust you. If I were stuck in this treecave with Shaun, I wouldn't trust him, even if he were the only other human for a hundred miles."

"It's more of a burrow, really."

I resisted the urge to sigh. "Why do you need me? You know how to start a fire. You've clearly spent time in the woods-you're good at tracking. Why not leave me here and fend for yourself?"

"Is that what you want?"

"Of course not," I said quickly, shuddering at the thought of facing the immense reach and brutality of the mountains alone. "I mean, our chances of survival increase if we stick together."

"My thoughts exactly."

"So you're using me."

"No more than you're using me."

I fell silent. There was a certain relief in finally being able to ask Ryder questions, but our exchange wasn't as satisfying as it should have been. I got the distinct impression he wasn't giving me straightforward answers. He gave me just enough, a nibble of bait, nothing more.

"You want a reason to trust me?" Ryder finally said, uncannily sensing my frustration. "My name isn't Ryder. It's Jude."

I flinched. "What?"

He reached into his back pocket and opened his wallet. His driver's license was tucked behind a plastic see-through inset, and he dug it out, passing it to me.

I looked at the Wyoming driver's license issued to Ryder Daniels.

"Looks real, doesn't it?" Ryder said. "It's not." He then passed me a second driver's license, which had been carefully hidden behind the first. Only this time, he slid his thumb to hide his last name and address.

The second driver's license had the same photo as the first, but was issued in California.

"I don't understand," I said.

"I didn't want Shaun to know my real name."

"Why not?"

"I didn't want him to have anything on me, in case we had a falling-out. I didn't trust him. And while I'm not sure I can trust you, either, I'm putting myself out there. I'm hoping you'll meet me halfway. If I open up to you, maybe I can convince you to share your secrets."

"I don't have a secret identity. I don't have any secrets," I argued, wondering what kind of ploy this was, what information he wanted to lure from me now.

"That's not true. You told me that you and Korbie came up to the mountains alone."

I frowned. "We did."

"Then what's your ex doing here? Beck, that's his name, right? The roads are closed. He must have come up before the first storm hit, two days ago. Did you know he'd be up here?"

"What if I did?" I said defensively.

"Why didn't you mention him? Back at the cabin, before you knew Shaun was dangerous, why didn't you tell us the truth?"

Because I was interested in Shaun, and didn't want to ruin my chances by bringing up my ex. It was too shameful a truth to confess, so I gave him an answer that let me live with myself.

"Maybe I didn't fully trust Shaun or you, and wanted an ace up my sleeve, just in case. Turns out I was smart-Beck took Shaun completely by surprise!" It now struck me that if I hadn't tried to escape from the ranger patrol cabin, Beck would have taken all of us by surprise, and I'd be with him now.

The realization seemed to knock me breathless, like a punch to the stomach.

"Do you think Beck is at Big Pines?" asked Ryder.

"I don't know." But I did think Beck was there. If he'd found Korbie, he would take her to Big Pines.

"Can you find Big Pines from here?"

I stared at Ryder, trying to figure out what he was planning. I had Beck's map and I could lead us to Big Pines. But why would Ryder want to help me get to Big Pines?

"I think so," I said at last, not sure I should commit to anything until I had untangled his endgame.

"Is Big Pines closer than the ranger station?"

"About a mile closer."

"Then I think we should go there. What kind of guy is Beck?"

"You have to ask?" I scoffed. "He doesn't let anyone mess with him. You saw that. When you took us hostage, you had no idea what you were getting into. Beck won't give up until he finds me. He's gone to look for Korbie, but he'll be back. You have every reason to be scared, Ryder," I warned.

"Jude," he corrected.

"Is that really what you want me to call you?" I asked, with a touch of exasperation. "I've been calling you Ryder this whole time. I'm not sure I can see you as anyone else."

His eyes jumped to mine, and a strange, unfathomable look passed over his face. "Try."

"Jude," I said, with even more aggravation. "Jude," I repeated, softer this time, experimenting with the sound of it. I actually believed I preferred it, though I'd never confess that to him. "It's short; I always preferred boys' names with two syllables. And it reminds me of that Beatles song. Or Jude Law, who you look nothing like," I added quickly.

He stroked his jawline in mock consideration. "True, he's got nothing on me."

In spite of myself, I laughed out loud. And immediately regretted it, when Ryder-Jude-grinned back, clearly pleased with his joke. The grin seemed to open his entire face, softening the steely angles and warming his hooded, aloof eyes. For a moment, I found the picture both sexy and alluring-but I then resented my attraction. It wasn't real. If Stockholm syndrome existed, I was sure my attraction was an early symptom of it.

Even so. Maybe I would call him Jude after all. If we were going to work together to stay alive, it might be helpful to think of him as someone different. Not the guy who'd abducted me, but someone with a dark past. Someone who hadn't stood up to Shaun, but had wanted to. Someone who would help me, if I helped him.

"I was named after Jude the Apostle, also known as Jude, patron saint of lost causes."

I eyed him doubtfully. "Patron saint of lost causes? Is that even true?"

"Of course it's true. I'm here with you, aren't I?"

I tilted my chin up. "Are you suggesting I'm a lost cause?"

"Actually," he said, his face growing serious, "the opposite. I think you're more capable than people give you credit for. Sometimes I wonder what kind of girl you were before you came on this trip."

He wondered about me? What other things did he think about me?

He eyed me in a way that made me feel increasingly transparent-and uncomfortable-and continued, "I watched how you and Korbie interacted, and it made me wonder if, back home, in front of your friends and family, you offer a slightly different version of the real Jade. A less capable version. You're not that girl here in the mountains. I like that you face your fears. And while it's not normally something people consider as a virtue, you're a very gifted liar. How many times did you coax Shaun's hand with a convincing lie?"

I did not like the long, cool stare of his Blue eyes on me, and quickly exclaimed, "If kidnapping and abduction don't pan out for you, I'm sure you could give psychic reading a try!"

He rubbed his thumb and index finger together, as if expecting money. "The least you can do is give me my first tip."

"Here's a tip: Next time, try sticking to a story that isn't so outlandish and off base; your victim might actually believe it."

This time, it was my turn to feel smugly pleased when his eyes glittered with amusement. I might be stuck in the wilderness, but hey, at least I hadn't lost my sense of humor.

"Do you think it's strange Beck shot an unarmed man?" Jude asked, reverting back to our earlier topic.

I hesitated. I wanted to defend Beck. I'd worked out in my head every possible way to justify his actions. He'd been frantic with worry. He'd believed Shaun had hurt Korbie and me. He had made the best move under the circumstances. I told myself these things, but I was deeply troubled by Beck's decision.

Drawing a sharp breath, I said, "No, I don't. He knew Shaun was lying. Beck isn't stupid. He knew Korbie and I were-are in danger, and he knew Shaun was at least partially responsible. Anyway, Shaun was hardly innocent. How many times did he hold a gun on me and Korbie?We were didn't seem to care then. You're just angry because Shaun was your friend. If their roles had been reversed, Shaun would have shot Beck without a moment's thought. You can't honestly tell me Shaun felt any remorse when he shot the game warden. And don't forget about the police officer he shot before you fled to the mountains, or the girl he sent to the hospital. Shaun had no regard for life. I'm not sorry Beck shot him."

Jude nodded. Not in a way that made me think he agreed with me. It was more that he now understood my frame of mind, and took note of it. "I definitely think we should go to Big Pines. Assuming Beck can find Korbie, he'll take her there. Which means getting you to Big Pines, and reuniting you with your friends, should be our top priority."

I stared at him curiously. For the second time I asked, "Why are you helping me?"

He leaned back against the roots, lacing his fingers behind his head and crossing his ankles, looking for all the world like a carefree lumberjack. "Maybe I'm in this for me. It's in my best interest to explain myself to Beck. I wouldn't want him to shoot me too," he suggested lightly enough, but-perhaps I imagined it-with a touch of dark severity.

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Read and review and let me know what you think!

-HeedragonGillian.


	14. Chapter 14

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Sorry I havent updated lol I had to lend my sister my laptop and I've finally gotten it back.

So I will post the next 2 chapters … maybe 3 idk lol

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CHAPTER 14

Jude and I sat on ground mats and a sleeping bag under the uprooted tree, huddled around the fire, soaking up every last ripple of heat. Jude asked a few more questions about Beck, which made me think he was scared of him, but mostly we kept the conversation light.

As Jude talked, I found myself wondering about him. How he'd fallen into an uneasy friendship-or maybe "partnership" was the better word-with Shaun. I wanted to question him, but I was afraid he'd see it as a trick to get him to reveal details that I could use later to help the police identify him. Which, in part, was my intent. I had a moral obligation to aid the police in capturing Jude. But on a more personal level, I was growing increasingly curious about him. For reasons I didn't want to dissect.

I was beginning to doze off to the low, pleasant timbre of Jude's voice, when without warning he said, "Once we get to Big Pines, Beck is going to want to turn me over to the authorities. It was Shaun's idea to abduct you, but I went along with it." He frowned. "He might even try to use physical force to detain me."

Suddenly fearful that Jude would change his mind about helping me to get to Big Pines, I quickly said, "We can tell Beck that you turned on Shaun and helped me escape."

"Your story won't match Korbie's."

"We'll tell Beck you turned on Shaun after you abducted me. That you were scared to stand up to Shaun at first, because he was the ringleader and had a gun, but when you saw how horribly he treated me, you decided to take matters into your own hands."

Jude shook his head, unconvinced. "That doesn't erase the fact that I took you in the first place. Beck doesn't strike me as the forgiving type-for him, there's no such thing as a mistake. He'll want retribution."

No such thing as a mistake? He sounds like Beck's dad, I thought.

"I'll talk to him," I said. "He'll listen to me."

"Really," he said in an incongruously level tone. "I didn't get the feeling Beck listens to anyone. He definitely didn't care what Shaun had to say."

The conversation had suddenly gotten out of my hands. I had to convince Jude that Beck wouldn't harm him, but the truth was, I didn't know how Beck would react when we arrived at Big Pines.

Especially since he'd already killed Shaun. I didn't want to believe he was capable of shooting Jude in cold blood too, but I couldn't rule it out.

"Even in the unlikely event that you get Beck to back down," he went on, what about the police?" You'll have to report what happened. Everything will come out, including my role in your abduction."

"No."I shook my head adamantly. "I won't tell them about you."

"Not on purpose, maybe. But you're going to have to tell them about me, Jade. They're going to ask a litany of questions, and the truth will come out. You got dragged into this mess by accident. You don't have anything to hide. You have no reason to cover for

me, and we both know it."

"That's not true. Listen, it was Shaun's idea to take us hostage. If you promise to help me, I'll lie for you. I'll-do anything you want!" I finished desperately.

He turned to face me, his brown eyes locking me in a penetrating gaze. "Do you think I'm only helping you because I want something in return?"

I didn't know why he was helping me. But it only made sense that he expected some kind of payment. Up until now, I'd avoided any serious speculation about what I might have to do here in the mountains to survive, but I would make it out. I wasn't going to die up here. I'd do what I had to. If I had to send my mind to another place while I did, so be it.

Jude moved toward me suddenly, and I drew back with a frightened gasp. Too late, I realized he'd only been shifting his weight.

He gave a snort of disgust. "Think I'd hit you? Among other things? Your brain is going wild trying to imagine the sordid requests I might make of you in exchange for helping you to Big Pines-don't bother denying it, your revulsion is written on your face. Well, you can stop panicking. I won't force myself on you. And I'll try to look past your thinking I would. I took you hostage because I didn't see another option. I'm sorry you got dragged into this mess, but I'll remind you that I did try to stop it from happening. And while we're on the subject of my character, let me ease your conscience. I've never been with any woman who wasn't willing," he finished with thinly veiled resentment.

"I don't know you," I stammered, shaken not only by his perceptiveness but by the topic of our conversation. I didn't want to talk about sex with Jude. I only wanted to make it out of here alive. "So forgive me for doubting your motives."

Jude had a scathing comment ready to fly-I saw it in his broiling, angry eyes-but at the last moment the tension went out of his face and he settled into a gloomy silence.

I bowed my head between my knees. I wished my socks would hurry up and dry. I couldn't fully stretch out my legs in our tiny fortress without touching Jude. He sat so close, I could hear him breathing, every exhalation sounding agitated.

"Why did you break up with your ex?" Jude asked unexpectedly. He wouldn't look at me, but I could tell he was doing his best to sound friendly. Maybe not friendly. Maybe just not offended. Like me, he probably realized we were stuck here together and it was in our best interest to keep things as civil as possible. "You said his name a few times while you were asleep."

Instead of being embarrassed, I felt cheated that I couldn't remember the dream. Most of the time I dreamed that Beck and I had never broken up. That he still lived three blocks away, that I could call him or stop by his house whenever I wanted. I dreamed we still went to school together, and that he stored his books and sunglasses in my locker. I never dreamed about the dark side of our relationship, the times when Beck turned moody after fighting with his dad and refused to talk to me, punishing his father vicariously through me. During those times, he seemed to really believe it was him against the world. I tried to let go of those memories, especially now, when I needed something hopeful to cling to.

"He broke up with me."

"Dumb guy," Jude said, dipping his head to catch my eye. He smiled. I could tell he was only trying to make me feel better.

"He's not dumb-he's very smart. And an excellent hiker. He knows these mountains really well," I added, letting the threat dangle. If we don't go to Big Pines, he will find me.

"Does he come up here often?"

"He used to. Before he left for college."

"He's a freshman?"

"At Stanford."

Jude paused, absorbing this quietly. After a moment, he let out a whistle. "You're right. He is smart."

"Smart enough to track us to the ranger patrol cabin," I shot back. "Smart enough not to be fooled by Shaun."

"Who he killed. For lying and kidnapping. He must have a temper."

"Beck doesn't have a temper. It's more that he-" How to put it? "He has a keen sense of justice."

"Which takes the form of shooting unarmed men?"

"Shaun shot the game warden, who was unarmed, so this is really a case of the pot calling the kettle black."

"Do you by chance remember Beck's SAT score?" I snorted. "Why do you care?"

"Just curious if he beat me-if he's smarter than me."

"He got a twenty-one hundred," I announced proudly. Beat that. Jude clapped his hands, clearly impressed. "Well, that'll certainly get you into Stanford."

"Beck got horrible grades to get back at his dad, who placed a lot of emphasis on report cards and student rank, then aced both the ACT and SAT. That is so Beck," I added. "He has to do things his own way. Especially when it comes to his dad-they don't have a great relationship."

"Did you visit Beck at Stanford? Did you ever hit that restaurant downtown, Kirk's, with the green walls? They serve the best steak fries."

"No, we broke up a few weeks after Beck left for school. How do you know anything about Palo Alto? Have you ever been there?"

"I grew up in the Bay Area."

"You're not far from home."

He made a dismissive gesture. "I was tired of the perfect weather. It just got boring, everyone needs a life-and-death adventure, you know?"

"Hilarious."I dug around in my pack, hoping against hope that when Jude had grabbed clothes from my duffel in the Jeep, he'd inadvertently included-Yes. It was here. The Stanford baseball cap Beck had picked up when he and his dad toured Stanford last year, back when Beck was still deciding between Stanford and USC.

A few days before Beck left for Stanford for good, I'd asked if I could keep the hat while he was away. I wanted something special of his, and I had no intention of giving it back. It wasn't even a fair exchange; in the end, I'd given him my heart, the whole of it. "Beck gave me this hat right before he took off for school. It's as close to Stanford as I've been."

"Beck gave you this?"

I held it out to him, but Jude didn't take it right away. He sat stiffly, as if he wanted nothing to do with Beck's and my past. At last he reached hesitantly to take the hat from my outstretched hand. He turned it over and over, examining it without a word.

"Looks like you wore it painting," he commented, brushing his thumb over a yellow splatter on the top.

"Probably mustard from a one of my high school kickbacks." I scraped my thumbnail over the stain, flaking it off.

"Beck loved going to those. His dad never let him go-it overlapped with tennis and track seasons-but he always went regardless. His best friend, Andre, Always performed at the kick backs. And every time I had a showcase, he was always there."Unexpectedly, my voice cracked as I relived the memory. Every time we went Beck had brought his pick up and we would lay in the back enjoying the music. I buried my face in my hands. More than ever, I longed for Beck. If he were here, he'd get me off the mountain. I wouldn't have to struggle to read the map anymore, because he'd lead the way. I rubbed my eyes to keep from crying, but that's what I really wanted. To let go and have a good cry.

"You miss him."

Yes, I did. Especially right now.

Jude asked, "Have you seen Beck since he left for school? Before two mornings ago at the gas station, I mean. Did you ever get a chance to talk to him and feel closure?"

"No. Beck never came home. Up until two days ago, I hadn't seen him in eight months."

"Not even for Christmas?" Jude asked, with an upward sweep of his eyebrows.

"No. I don't want to talk about Beck anymore, and I don't want to talk about me." I didn't want to talk about Jude, either, but that seemed safer than playing the dangerous game of wishing Beck were here.

Jude passed me his canteen again, but I wasn't thirsty for stale water. I wanted a Coke and cornflakes and mashed potatoes with gravy and toast with real butter, not margarine. It suddenly hit me that I hadn't eaten since last night. My stomach twisted painfully, and I wondered how Jude and I were going to survive the long hike to Big Pines with nothing but water.

Jude, always observant, guessed my thoughts. "We have three canteens of water and two granola bars, but I think we should save the food until we really need it."

"What happened to the fourth canteen? I heard Shaun say we left the cabin with four."

"I left one behind for Korbie."He pressed his finger to his lips. "Don't tell Shaun; it's our little secret."

I stared at him. His morbid humor was lost on me, but his act of generosity made my throat grow tight with emotion. I wanted to squeeze his hand and weep at the same time. "You did that?" I finally managed to say.

"I left her a canteen and two granola bars. It's enough food for her to outlast the storm. In another day or two, she'll be able to make her way to the road. She's going to be fine. I know you're worried about her, Jade, but given the two options-staying in the warmth of the cabin, lonely as that must be for her, or coming with us and risking exposure, exhaustion, and starvation-she got the better deal. When you lied about her having diabetes, you probably saved her life. I know I said I only covered for you to help myself, but I was frustrated when I said it, and in the heat of the moment, I lost my temper. The truth is, I saw what you were doing, and I was impressed by your ingenuity and your bravery. I should have told you then. I didn't, so I'm telling you now. You should be proud of what you did."

I hardly heard his praise. I was too busy concentrating on the first thing he'd said. "But . . . why would you do that for Korbie?" I asked, baffled.

"Surprised to discover I'm not entirely evil?" he said, with a jaded curve to his mouth.

This was his greatest kindness so far, and I didn't know what to say. Tempting as my initial reaction was-to snub him with chilly detachment-I was incapable of expending the energy. I was tired of building walls. Blinking away tears, I simply exhaled a shaky breath and said, "Thank you, Jude. I can't thank you enough."

He accepted my gratitude with a quick nod. The gesture hid the faintest grimace, which, I was almost certain, seemed to signify his discomfort at being heralded a hero. To save him from his embarrassment, I decided to change the subject.

"Do you think my boots and socks are dry enough? I have to go to the bathroom." I wanted to look at Beck's map again, especially if we were taking off soon, but I also really did have to go.

After I laced up my boots, I trudged off into the snow. I didn't walk far enough to lose sight of our temporary camp, just far enough to have some privacy. planting myself behind a tree, I pulled out Beck's map. He had marked an old, abandoned fur trapper's hut less than a quarter of a mile away. The description read, "Semi-decent roof, good wind protection.

"Too bad I hadn't been able to discover the hut last night, in the thick of the storm.

Beck had made a green dot beside the fur trapper's hut. There were two other identical green dots on the map; one marked the cabin where I'd first met Jude and Shaun. The third green dot also seemed to mark a shelter. Beside this dot, Beck's notes merely read, "Broken windows." The shelter was probably abandoned, but it fell between our current location and Big Pines; hopefully, Jude and I could rest there.

On the chance that I might find something useful at the fur trapper's hut, like granola bar wrappers left behind by hikers that could be used as fuel, and because I was already close by, I decided to check it out. Jude wouldn't miss me if I was gone an extra few minutes.

Using the map, I navigated my way through the trees. The branches snagged my clothes, making me think of clawing, bony fingers. I pushed the image away with a shudder, suddenly wishing I'd brought Jude.

Finally, the trees cleared to reveal a drooping, windowless, bare-bones log structure that looked well over a hundred years old. The door was so narrow and short, I would have to hunch over to pass through it.

The tiny door was not a gross miscalculation on the part of the mountain men who'd built the hut. When the first fur trappers arrived in the area, they had built their huts' entryways too small for a grizzly bear to get through, to preserve their beaver pelts and their own lives. I owed this bit of historical trivia to Beck, who, along with Andre, had waited out a rainstorm in what had to be a similar trapper's hut last spring on a hiking trip.

As I grew closer, a bit of yellow tape caught on sagebrush drew my eye. Police tape. A chill of familiarity tingled my spine, as if this clue should mean something to me.

The hut's door creaked in the wind.

I started to back away, suddenly cold with a bad feeling. The hairs on my scalp stood on end. I kept my eyes fastened to the door, afraid something awful would come out if I turned my back.

And that's when my brain snapped to life.

I knew this hut. It had been featured on the news last October when a local girl, Kimani Yowell, had been found murdered inside it.

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Next chapter coming soon!

Read and review and let me know what you think!

-HeedragonGillian.


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

Kimani Yowell. Miss Northridge. The high school pageant winner who was killed last October. Her death hadn't made the news the way Tori Vega's had, because she wasn't from a wealthy family.

Kimani had fought with her boyfriend at a party the night she died. She left alone, and he went after her. He drove her to the mountains, strangled her, and crammed her body inside the fur trapper's hut. If hikers hadn't stumbled across her remains, her boyfriend might have gotten away with it.

Kimani had gone to Northridge High, my rival school, so her story had seemed especially traumatic at the time. Now it felt bone-chilling. She had died out here. In the same woods where I was fighting for my life.

The hut's door creaked again and something dark and alive lumbered out, its large, clawed paws crushing into the snow. Covered in thick, oily brown fur, the animal was larger than a dog. It stopped, jerking its snout up, startled by my presence. Its beady black eyes glittered hungrily behind a silvery facial mask. Grunting, snorting sounds ground low in its throat.

I had heard stories of wolverines. They were ferocious enough to take on prey three times their size.

The wolverine walked toward me, its gait startlingly bearlike. I turned and ran.

I heard the wolverine loping across the snow behind me. In a panic, I tried to glance backward, and slipped. Icy slush seeped through my jeans and I curled my fingers into the snow, clutching for something to pull myself up. I grasped the first object I felt and stared at it in a stupor. The long shaft of the bone was picked dry and riddled with tooth marks. With a shriek, I flung it away.

I got my feet under me and started sprinting toward the blur of trees ahead. Jude's name was the one clear thought drumming in my head.

"]ude!" I screamed, praying he would hear me.

Branches whipped at my face and the deep snow swallowed my legs. I risked a second look behind me. The wolverine was a few paces back, its eyes black with raw, animal determination.

Dodging blindly through the trees, I tried frantically to orient myself. Which way was Jude? I swept my eyes over the frozen ground. Why couldn't I find my footprints from before? Was I heading even farther from him?

I screamed his name again. My voice bounced off the trees, into the vast sky. Not one bird took flight. He couldn't hear me. No one could. I was alone.

My hands were smeared with blood from the sharp spruce needles, but I was oblivious to the pain; I was sure I felt the wolverine's razor teeth and thick, hooked claws snatch at the backs of my legs.

It grabbed me suddenly from behind. I lurched and kicked, almost as desperate to free myself as I was to stay on my feet. If I went down, it was over. I would never get back up.

"Easy, Jade, I'm not going to hurt you."

The knots in my chest unraveled at the sound of Jude's low, reassuring voice. The pressure inside me deflated, and I sagged against him. I made a whimpering sound of relief.

Jude loosened his hold on me gradually, making sure I had my footing. "I'm not going to hurt you," he repeated. He turned me to face him. His eyes searched my face, quizzical and worried. "What happened?"

I stared down at my scratched, bleeding hands. I couldn't find my voice.

"I heard you screaming. I thought a bear-" He drew a rocky breath.

Without thinking, I pressed my face to his chest. A sob hung in my throat. I just wanted to be held.

Even if it was by Jude.

Jude stood stiffly, startled by my embrace. When I didn't let go, his hands moved hesitantly up to my arms. He stroked them reluctantly at first, then settled into a soothing rhythm. I was glad he didn't touch me like he thought I'd break. I needed to know he was solid and real. When he cradled my head against his chest and murmured soothingly into my ear, I couldn't fight the tears any longer. I buried my face into his coat, crying freely.

"I'm right here," he said gently. "I'm not leaving. You're not alone." He rested his chin on top of my head, and I found myself instinctively nestling closer. I was so cold. So bone-cold, so sucked of warmth, chilled to the very core. It felt good to let him hold me.

Right there, in the frigid air, Jude took off his coat and wrapped it around my shoulders. "Tell me what happened."

I didn't want to think back. How ridiculous he would think I was. A wolverine, however vicious, was nothing to cry over. It could have been worse. It could have been a grizzly. I was drawing air too quickly, and it was making my head float sickeningly.

"Take this."Jude offered me a small bottle from his coat pocket. I was so rattled, I hardly felt the liquid burn down my throat. It was cold like water, but bitter, and I sputtered and coughed as I tipped the bottle for more. Soon a certain warmth crept into my body, and my breathing relaxed.

"At first I thought it was a bear." I squeezed my eyes shut, hearing my breath start to hitch again. I could still see the animal's snarling lips behind my eyelids. "It was a fucking wolverine and it charged me. I thought it was going to kill me."

"It must have heard me coming, realized it was outmatched, and bolted. It was gone by the time I found you," he said, holding me tighter.

After I composed myself, I took a long sip from the bottle and continued, "It was hiding in an old fur trapper's hut, one that I think a girl was found dead in last October. I remember seeing a very similar hut on the news when they reported finding her body, and a minute ago I saw a small piece of yellow crime-scene tape in the sagebrush outside the hut. I think it's the same one. I found a bone outside the hut. It can't be hers, can it? The crime scene investigators would have made sure to remove all her remains, right? please tell me you don't think it was hers!"

I remembered the hollow way the bone had felt in my hand. A shell of death. It made me think of the leathery, decomposed body in the storage room of the first cabin. At that moment, I felt certain that death was pressing in from every reach of the mountains. What had ever made me want to come to this horrible place?

Jude took me by the shoulders, examining my face intently. His expression clouded and his lips pressed tight with concentration. "Which girl?"

"Kimani Yowell. Do you remember hearing about her on the news? She was a senior at Northridge High School, and was already a concert pianist. She was invited around the country to play. Everyone said she'd go to Julliard; she was that good. And then her boyfriend killed her. He strangled her and dragged her body up here to hide it."

"I remember her," Jude said remotely, looking off in the distance.

"What kind of guy kills his own girlfriend?"

Jude did not answer. But something dark and unpleasant darted across his features.

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As we made our way back to camp, Jude walked slightly closer to me than usual. It was hard to believe that only two days ago, I'd shamelessly flirted with him at the 7-Eleven, viewing him as some kind of godsend who was saving me from humiliating myself. In two days, I'd gone from adoring him, to deploring him, to at this moment, I didn't know what to feel. I didn't know what to think.

Our sleeves accidentally brushed. Jude didn't pull away or apologize. In fact, he seemed so unbothered by it, I wondered if he noticed. I noticed. His closeness made a strange, slippery warmth pour through me. I stole a fleeting glance up at him. Unshaven and sleep deprived, he still managed to look hot. Like a rugged REI model. He spent time outdoors-it showed in his coloring and the sun-lightened tips of his hair. A few faint lines fanned out from his eyes, the kind you got from squinting into the sun. And he had the faintest raccoon eyes from wearing sunglasses. Instead of corny, it looked almost sexy.

Despite exhaustion, he walked with his shoulders squared with purpose. Beneath his dark brows, his eyes gazed out at the world with a long, cool stare. Part calculating, part discriminating, I decided. But under the surface, I detected a glimmer of uneasiness. I wondered what he was afraid of, what scared him most. Whatever his fears were, he kept them buried deep.

He saw me looking at him. Immediately, I averted my gaze. I couldn't believe he'd caught me staring. More than ever, I resented any attraction I might be feeling to him. He was my captor. He held me against my will. His recent kindness didn't change that. I had to remind myself of who he really was.

But who was he really? He and Shaun had never made sense as partners. Jude-Ryder-had never been cruel. And he had tried to warn me and Korbie not to come in the cabin. I gave a conflicted sigh. Nothing about Jude added up.

"First order of business, get you warm," he said. "After that, we have to find food. It's too early for berries, so we're going to have to hunt."

The past two days I'd been wary and even suspicious of Jude's seeming concern for my well-being. This time, I found myself deeply curious about his motives. When Beck had first started showing an interest in me, he'd showered me with compliments, teased me affectionately, and made little excuses to see me, all of which were flattering, but the biggest clue that he liked me was his sudden interest in taking care of me. When it frosted, he scraped my car windows. At the movie theater, he made sure I had a seat in the middle of the row. When my Wrangler was in the shop, he insisted on driving me everywhere. Maybe I was reading into Jude's gestures too deeply, but I wondered if his concern for me was more than plain chivalry.

Did he feel something for me?

I sternly reminded myself that it didn't matter. Because I wasn't going to reciprocate his feelings, real or imagined.

"How did you know I drive an orange Wrangler, and how did you know my dad loves fly-fishing?" I suddenly asked him, stepping over a fallen tree nearly hidden under the snow.

"There were two cars in the parking lot of the 7-Eleven. An older-model orange Jeep Wrangler and a BMW XS. When I walked into the store, I immediately pinned your ex with the Bimmer, and you with the Wrangler," he explained. "It had two faded, peeling bumper stickers: 'My Other Ride Is a Drift Boat' and 'I Brake for Rimes.' I assumed the Wrangler belonged to your dad before he gave it to you."

It hadn't, but he'd caught a lucky break. Actually, the bumper stickers were one of the reasons my dad had bought the Wrangler. He felt a kinship to fishermen, and illogically trusted them over other men.

"What made you so sure I didn't drive the BMW?" I pressed, not sure if I should feel insulted or proud.

"Your sunglasses came from Target. Your ex had on Fendi. Most people who go flashy do it across the board."

I tried to think of the last time I'd been that observant about anything. "Do you always match people with their cars at the gas station?" I joked.

He shrugged. "It's a riddle. I like solving problems."

"Interesting. You're a riddle to me," I said quietly. Jude's gaze cut to mine, then quickly away.

To break the strange feeling buzzing in the air between us, I cocked my head speculatively. "So. Are you one of those genius types?"

His countenance automatically closed off, as if he had trained himself not to reveal anything in the face of personal inquiry. After a moment, his expression softened, and a faint smile played around his mouth. "would it impress you to know my third grade teacher had me tested for photographic memory?"

I waved an arm nonchalantly through the air. "Nah, not at all." He scratched his head, smiling wider. "I failed. But was close enough to be considered."

I counted his strengths off on my fingers. "So you practically have photographic memory. And you have excellent survival skills. Anything else I should know? Like maybe where you go to school-you are in college, aren't you?"

"I dropped out last year."

I hadn't seen that coming. Jude struck me as a serious, studious person, not a dropout. "Why?"

"I had to take care of something," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets and hunching his shoulders uncomfortably.

"Gee, that makes everything clear."

His mouth hardened at the edges, leading me to believe I'd hit a nerve. "Everyone needs secrets. They keep us vulnerable."

"Why would anyone want to be vulnerable?"

"To keep their guard up, so they don't get sloppy."

"I don't understand."

"If you have a weakness, you have to work hard to defend it. You can't be lazy about it."

"What's your weakness?"

He laughed, but not with amusement. "You really think I'll tell?"

"Worth a shot."

"My sister. I love her more than anything."

His answer took me by complete surprise. Somehow, with that single answer, it was like a layer had been lifted and I could see a softer side of Jude. On the outside, he was a rugged and skilled man, a force to be reckoned with. But on the inside, there was a tender goodness about him. "I wasn't expecting that," I said after a moment. "It sounds like she means a lot to you."

"My dad died when I was a baby, and my mother remarried. My sister was born a few months before my third birthday, and I remember thinking she was the worst thing that would ever happen to me." He smiled. "I got over myself pretty fast and figured out how wrong I was."

"Is she in California?"

"Haven't seen her since I left home."

"You must miss her."

Jude laughed again, and this time it was thick with emotion. "I took my role as her brother and protector seriously. I swore nothing bad would ever happen to her."

I exhaled slowly. A certain sadness and longing fluttered inside me. Jude would not know it, but I believed I understood how his sister felt. My dad and Ian had always protected me. I counted on them for everything. I felt like I was the center of their world, and I took no shame in it. They weren't here now, but Jude was. And in a strange, unexplicable way, I found myself jealous of his sister. Jealous that he was thinking of her, when I wanted him to be thinking of me.

"What about you?" Jude said. "What secrets are you keeping?"

"I don't have secrets." But I did. I was keeping one very big secret from Jude, and I wouldn't even allow myself to think it, because it was wrong. So very wrong. Suddenly I couldn't look him in the eye, afraid I'd blush if I did.

"How did you and Shaun become friends?" I asked.

"Not friends," Jude corrected. "You were right about that. We worked together, that's it."

"So you didn't like him-you never liked him?" I pressed. "We had nothing in common."

"Where did you work?"

"Odd jobs, here and there," he answered vaguely.

"What kind of odd jobs?"

"Nothing to be particularly proud of," he said in a way that made it clear he wasn't going to divulge more on the matter. "Shaun had things I needed. And vice versa."

"What happened at the Subway store? Was that a job-a job gone wrong?"

Jude snorted. "That was a robbery. Plain and simple. After I saw you at the 7-Eleven, I met up with Shaun at our motel," replied Jude, startling me with his response. I hadn't expected him to be so forthcoming. Maybe he too was tired of building walls. "We had some business to take care of in Blackfoot, and we went together in his truck. On the way, Shaun wanted to stop for a late lunch-or so he told me. He went inside the Subway, held the cashier at gunpoint, then panicked when an officer arrived on the scene."

"Where were you when this happened?"

"In the truck," Jude said with thinly veiled rancor. "I heard the shot and started to climb out. I didn't know what was going on. Shaun came running and yelled at me to get back in the truck. If I hadn't gotten back in, Shaun would have taken off without me, and I would have been arrested. plus, the gun Shaun used to shoot the officer was mine. So I got in the truck and we fled. We went through the mountains, hoping to evade the police, but then the snow hit. We were forced to wait out the storm, and that's when we met you."

"Why did Shaun have your gun?"

He uttered a loathsome, unamused laugh. "Last week, before we came to the mountains, Shaun had me go with him to collect money from a guy who owed him. It was my job to lean on the guy. We didn't give him the heads-up we were coming, but he must have gotten tipped off. We'd only been there a couple minutes when we heard sirens. We bolted for the alley, and the police followed on foot. I had to dump my gun, and Shaun saw me throw it in a garbage bin right before we split up. We lost the cops, but by the time I circled back to the garbage bin, my gun was gone. Shaun got to it first, and he wouldn't return it. I came up with a few ideas to get it back, but they all would take time. If I'd known a few days later he was going to shoot a cop, I would have worked faster."

"So you feel bad about what happened?"

"Of course I do."

"You expect me to believe you're a good guy, then?" Jude tossed his head back with an abrupt laugh. "A good guy? Is that really what you think?"

I didn't want to tell Jude what I thought of him. He made me feel tingly and loose and hot under the skin. He'd told me-in his own words-that he was dangerous. And while his dark eyes did smolder with secrets, I had seen beyond them. I knew that buried under the surface was a gentleness, a kindness. It was as endearing as alluring. I recalled Jude's taut, disciplined body when I'd watched him undress at the ranger patrol cabin. He made Calvin look like a boy. I glanced furtively at Jude, my eyes flitting automatically to the soft, mysterious set of his mouth, wondering what it would feel like to-

I choked at the thought.

Jude regarded me peculiarly. "What's wrong?" Fingering my neck, I said, "Must be getting a cough."

"Your face is bright red. Do you want some water?" Why not? Clearly I needed something to cool me off.

Before he could reach for the canteen at his hip, Jude came up short. His hand instinctively gripped my arm, holding me back. He stared into the woods, a flash of panic registering in his icy blue eyes.

"What is it?" I whispered, my stomach squeezing instinctively with anxiety.

Jude's body remained tense for several more beats, until at last his hold on me relaxed. "Timber wolves. Three of them."

I followed his line of vision. I squinted at where the shadows made strange patterns on the glittering snow, but I didn't see movement.

"They're gone now," Jude said. "They came to check us out."

"I thought wolves were shy of humans." Beck had told me stories of spotting wolves while hiking. In the time it took him to pull out his camera, they always ran away.

"They are. They won't attack unless they're sick or provoked." Jude's eyes fell on mine with a look of significance. "I'm worried about grizzly bears. They often follow wolves, then move in after the pack makes a kill. They're freeloaders. Especially in the spring, when they've been hibernating and they're hungry."

"In other words, where there's a wolf, there's a grizzly bear." I shuddered, but this time not from cold.

My stomach scraped with hunger.

I could not picture myself killing an animal, but I was also deliriously hungry. The hollow ache wore me down to where my thinking shifted, and I agreed to join Jude on the hunt for breakfast. My body had long ago burned through the canned corn I'd eaten yesterday evening for dinner, and I could not continue hiking without food. Hunger pecked incessantly at my thoughts, until it was the only thing I could think about. I wanted to get to the cabin as soon as possible, but there was no way we'd last the strenuous and demanding hike without eating first.

Jude prepped me on the essentials of hunting, including how to track small animals and how to set a deadfall trap using sticks and a large rock. "we'll have to make our way out of the densest parts of the trees," he said. "Animals gravitate toward water, food, and shelter. The sun doesn't penetrate this deep into the forest, which makes for little light and, subsequently, little food."

"I can find a river," I offered helpfully. At Jude's dubious glance, I added, "The same way I knew how to guide you and Shaun deliberately to the ranger patrol cabin."

His hooded eyes evaluated me carefully. "That was intentional?"

"Yup," I said, proud I could prove myself useful yet again. Unzipping my coat, I drew out Beck's map.

I wasn't sure I was doing the right thing by showing Jude the map, but it was a risk I decided to take.

He still thought I was knowledgeable about the terrain-he needed me as much as he needed the map, which was a confusing jumble of Beck's scribbled notes. Besides, if Jude were going to abandon me, he'd had several opportunities. The best plan now was to combine our resources and get to Big Pines as quickly as possible.

I handed the map to Jude, who pondered it silently for a long time. At last he said, "where did you get this?"

"It's Beck's. Did you see the countless notations? Impressive, right? I told you he's an expert on the area."

"Beck made this?"

"I took it from his car before I drove up here. Without it, I'd probably be dead by now."

Jude said nothing, only continued to search the map keenly. "This area right here is approximately our current position," I said, pointing near one of the many smaller glacial lakes that dotted the Tetons. "Here is the ranger patrol cabin. It's less than a mile away. Can you believe, after all that time trudging through the storm, we didn't even travel a mile? And here is Big Pines. Given how slow we've been traveling, it could take most of a day to get there."

"What do the green dots represent? They're not labeled."

"This green dot marks the fur trapper's hut. And this one farther north marks the cabin where Shaun took me hostage."

"And this green dot?"

"I think it's also a shelter, probably abandoned. We'll pass it on our way to Big Pines. I'm hoping we can rest there, warm up, and maybe find running water."

Jude continued to ponder the map, his attention sharply focused. His hands gripped it tightly, almost greedily, and for one moment I feared he'd tear the paper. "I believed you when you said we'd stumbled across the ranger outpost by accident. You played me."

I faked an expression of superiority. "Like a fiddle."

"This map could save our lives. Can I hold on to it?" Jude asked. "For safekeeping?"

I bit my lip, unable to conceal my anxiety. I hoped I hadn't made a mistake in showing him the map.

"I'm not going to run off with it," Jude said gently. "I want to study it and see if I can find any shortcuts to Big Pines."

"Maybe for a bit," I agreed hesitantly. "I want to study it too," I added, hoping he didn't think I was suspicious of him. Because I wasn't. At least, I didn't think I was. It was just that the map was my insurance. It was my safeguard and a physical symbol of Beck, who I could trust completely.

"Deal." Jude tucked the map inside his coat with a strange, intense light in his eyes.

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Can Jade really trust Jude/Ryder?

Guess we'll find out next chapter lol

Please read and review and let me know what you think!

-HeedragonGillian.


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